Coming home
by coolalisa
Summary: Hermione's lost control of her magic because of Ron's abuse and flees to Hogwarts, while Severus is an empty shell after surviving the war which was supposed to claim his life. Warnings: OOC Ron, abuse, rape. Some of book 7 disregarded.
1. Prologue

AN: Some aspects of book 7 has been disregarded in this story. Voldemorts downfall remains as it was, but Snape survived and Dobby did not die.

Disclaimer: I, of course, own nothing.

Prologue

Hermione Granger stared at the girl in the mirror with an expression that was so hallow that she didn't recognize herself. Never mind the bruises that covered her face and arms or the swelling around her eye. It was the haunted, empty expression on her face that scared her. Had it really come to acceptance? Not only did she expect him to come home both drunk and in a wild, uncontrollable frenzy of lust, but she expected him to come home to have his way with her and silence her muffled pleads of him to stop with a fist to the face. Had it really come to this?

What had happened to the love they once had shared she couldn't begging to understand. Thinking back on it, she couldn't remember when it had gone wrong or what had happened for him to change his personality so. He was a Weasley, for crying out loud! Surely it was unheard of that a Weasly physically abused a person he was supposed to love? That was something Death Eaters like the Malfoy's were supposed to do. The Weasleys were known for their compassion and gentle ways. What had gone wrong with Ron?

Hermione gently touched the swelling around her eye. She sucked her breath in as the tender lump stung incredibly. Looking over her body in the full-length mirror she noticed that the bruises on her body were everything from dark blue, to purple and yellow. She couldn't see all of her back, but there was still a fresh wound on her right shoulder, a reminder that Ron should never be allowed to handle knives when he was drunk. A big chunk of her hair was gone – he had been so forceful at tonight's session that he hadn't even noticed what he had done. She winced when she saw that an area as big as a galleon, at the top of her scalp, was hairless. More or less bare-scraped. Merlin's beard. She needed to be rid of him.

_Before he kills me_.

Hermione started at the revelation, instantly regretting the stray line of thought. He wasn't purposely ever going to kill her –what a preposterous notion! – but he was slowly sucking the life out of her, something she couldn't bare to deny anymore. She had dropped the class in Advanced Potion-Making she had been taking, since she had fallen too far behind to be able to catch up. She had stopped going outside, since she was scared of what people would think of her. The only person she had seen, besides Ron, in months was Harry and he was so busy with Auror school that he barely had time left over for her. Not that Hermione would begrudge him of this, it was his life dream (apart from destroying Voldemort) and she was ecstatic that he was doing so well. Because of this, not even Harry knew how Ron was treating her.

The worst part of this whole ordeal was that she had lost control of her magic. She was unable to summon it at will and at times her spells were so weak that they faltered half-way through, sometimes even doing things she hadn't meant to. One time she had managed to blow up a loaf of bread instead of summoning it to her, her _Accio _failing miserably to do what it was supposed to. Another time, the simple _Lumos_ spell had set her bed sheet on fire. She no longer felt like the brightest witch of her age. She hadn't for a long time. In fact, she barely felt like a witch at all these days.

She had to leave. Now. Before he woke up from his drunken stupor and would see that she was gathering her things. He had managed to threat her into staying so many times. No more. She was done. She was out for good. Nothing he would say could ever be enough to get her to stay or to come back. Looking around the cramped apartment, she quickly realized that she had too many things to be able to take them all with her now. She couldn't use magic, it was too risky, so she calmly thought through what items she most likely would have use for. Her wand, obviously. Even if her magic was a bit wonky, she wouldn't be parted with it. A change of clothes might be wise, as would the priceless set of First-edition Potion books Harry had given her for her birthday – with Ron's temper it was not an unfamiliar thought that he could set any of her things on fire for leaving him. The thought made her wince. Suddenly it was much harder to decide what would stay and what would go with her. Grabbing an over seized duffel bag, she stuffed it with the things that had sentimental value first – the frames with pictures of her family and friends, her Hogwarts diploma, a box of letters sent to her from various people during her school years and her Gryffindor robes. She then added the Potions books, a few t-shirts, a pair of jeans and underwear and socks. Noticing there was room for more, she threw in some extra books, _Hogwarts, A history_, being one of them, and another pair of jeans – just to be on the safe side. Before she left, she hurried in to the bathroom and smugged foundation over her entire face, covering the black spots around her eye. She did not want anyone to see what she really looked like. She sighed, annoyed, as it took time to finish. If only she could cast a glamor spell...

Once she was finished, she heaved the bag up on her shoulder and stumbled a bit at the unexpected weight. Readjusting it slightly, she nearly cried out in anguish as the strap grazed her wound. She felt the scabs open under the shirt and knew that her shirt would be covered in blood when she took it off. Taking a breath breath, she started for the door. A floorboard creaked under her and Ron grunted in his sleep. Hermione froze, half-expecting him to wake up and through a fit. But he merely turned around and buried his face into the pillow, letting out a soft snore. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed quietly in relief. Walking as stealthily as possible, she reached the door, opened it slowly and as soon as it was shut behind her, she started running. Or jogging, actually. The bag was heavy and it controlled her speed.

Diagon Alley was more or less deserted, which hardly was surprising – it was after midnight after all. Hermione was strangely comforted by the empty street, feeling safe in a way that there was no one she knew that could witness her flight. As soon as the coast was clear, she whipped out her wand and saying a quick prayer that her wand and magic would not fail her at this crucial time, she called the Knight Bus. It appeared with a bang which made Hermione jump. She scolded herself for her obvious jumpiness. She had been on this bus countless time – it really shouldn't shock her _every_ time. The door to the Bus opened and out sprang Stan Shunpike.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I'll be your conductor this evening."

He didn't look directly at Hermione until he was finished with his usual greeting. As his gaze turned to meet hers, she hoped he wouldn't recognize her.

"Miss Hermione Granger! What 'choo doin' out at this time of night?"

Of course he would recognize her. She and Harry had two of the most recognizable faces in Wizarding Great Britain. Harry, being the boy who lived AND the-boy-who-destroyed-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, couldn't go anywhere without being stared at. Hermione, being said boy's best friend AND the highest scoring graduate of Hogwarts since Tom Riddle, was more or less constantly recognized by the public. She winced slightly. No wonder Ron always said that he was living in her shadow.

"Just need a ride, Mr Shunpike," she answered wearily with a polite, but tiny, smile.

She prayed that the make-up she had used to cover up her black eye was still in tact. Stan, sensing her resigned demeanor, was wise enough not to push the matter. He simply gave a quick nod and then hurried to take the bag from her aching shoulder.

"Where too then, Miss Granger?"

The question caught Hermione off guard. She hadn't at all considered where she would go. She racked her brain. Her parents house was out – she needed to stay in the wizarding world if she ever was to get control of her magic. The Burrow was out of the question – Ron would most likely check there first and for the very same reason, she crossed Grimmauld Place off the list. Besides, she didn't want any of these people to know what Ron had put her through. Not yet. So, without really thinking about it, she blurted out–

"Hogwarts."

Minerva McGonagall had been Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since the end of the war, when it was clear that Severus Snape was both unable and unwilling to continue this post. He was a patient at St Mungo's for several weeks after the bites Nagini had bestowed upon him in the Shrieking Shack and was reluctant to come back to Hogwarts as Potions teacher when he had recovered. Minerva had, with a lot of cunning and persuasion managed to get the best Potions Master in Britain to return to Hogwarts.

He was more closed off to the world than he had ever been, Minerva noticed not long after he was back. It had been two years since the downfall of Voldemort, and Severus seemed more lost for each passing week. He was as sullen and grumpy with his students as ever, but there was a slight improvement in the differentiation of Houses. He no longer blindly favored the Slytherin's, just as he no longer automatically blamed the Gryffindor's for every little thing. House rivalry in general had improved immensely since the end of the war – perhaps wizards and witches finally could see the whole picture, instead of seeing everything in black and white.

Minerva started as one of the bells on the wall jingled, signaling that someone was at the gate of Hogwarts. She tilted her head and simply stared at the bell for a long time, but jingling didn't stop. Whoever was down there was desperate to come in. She sighed tiredly, not being dressed or in spirit to walk down to the gate to see who was coming. Looking at the grand clock over in the corner, she realized that Severus would be the only one awake at this hour. Bracing herself, she threw a handful of Floo Powder in the fireplace and then waited for Severus to appear.

"Yes, Headmistress?"

He sounded tired, or perhaps even resigned. Minerva had promised him not to treat him as her personal slave, as Albus had done at times, and thus she had to phrase herself accordingly.

"I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour, Severus, but there is someone at the gate," she told him carefully. "I would go myself, but I am not appropriately dressed for it. Would it too much to ask if you could go in my stead?"

Severus looked at her will a dull expression, neither getting angry or annoyed. His lack of emotion was starting to concern her.

"Of course not, Headmistress. I will go at once."

"Thank you, Severus," she said, but his head had already disappeared.

She sighed heavily, wondering what could be done about this matter. The portrait of Dumbledore had informed her once that Severus never had imagined surviving the war. If this was indeed true, then perhaps Minerva could understand why he seemed to be alive in body alone. He had lost his spirit, his will to live when he had awoken in the hospital bed at St Mungo's. He needed someone to help him regain the will to not only be alive in body, but to be alive in spirit as well. Someone strong-willed and intelligent. Someone who could challenge him. But where could one begin to look for a woman that was strong-willed, intelligent and enough of a challenge for a man like Severus Snape?

Walking in his usual stride along the corridors of Hogwarts, his wand illuminated to show him the way, Severus was muttering under his breath who it was that was stupid enough to graze Hogwarts with a visit at this time. The impertinence! Whoever this person was would be in for the scolding of a life-time. As he stepped out onto the grounds he saw that it was raining. He stopped short, grumbling shortly before letting out a stream of curses. He contemplated turning around, letting whoever was down by the gate stay in the rain and rot as punishment for disturbing his solitude. Realizing that Minerva would hex him if he went back on his word, he stepped out into the rain and hurried down the path to the iron gate of Hogwarts.

As he got closer, he noticed that whoever was awaiting entrance, was not dressed for the weather. The lite frame was shivering violently with cold and he quickened his pace without thinking about it. It was a woman, he surmised, seeing long hair plastered along the side of her head. Reaching the gate, he stared dumbfounded at the woman in front of him.

"Miss Granger? What are you doing here?" he demanded, sounding more harsh than he had intended to.

"Hello, Professor Snape, it's nice to see you," Hermione managed to get out, smiling slightly. "Could we wait with the pleasantries until I get out of the rain, please?"

He saw that her lips were almost blue from the cold. Her teeth were evening chattering. He was so shocked to see his former student in such a state that he for the longest time only stared at her.

"Professor? Please?"

She was begging him now. Severus shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his mind and then put the tip of his wand on the lock of the gate, mumbled an incantation and than watched her step on to the Hogwarts grounds with an evident look of relief.

"Give me your bag, Miss Granger," he said and held out his hand to grab it from her.

He notice her wince as if something was hurting her as she slid it off her shoulder. With the bag in his hand, they started up the path to the castle, and he wondered why the bag was so heavy. Surely she had shrunk everything in it? Had she packed every belonging she had ever owned into the bag? They didn't speak, and even though Severus had a million questions, he didn't ask a single one. First of all, he could see that she was not only ice-cold, but she was in pain. It was not his business to receive the answers for what had happened to her. He was not suitable for it and thus he decided to take her directly to Minerva.

"You were lucky that the Headmistress was still awake, Miss Granger," he said in his usual slow drawl. "You would have been forced to wait until morning had she not heard the bell."

Hermione nodded gently, not bothering to reply. It had been a gamble coming here in the middle of the night, she knew this.

"I will take you to her directly," Severus then informed her and he heard her murmur a quiet 'thank you' in return.

As they walked down the hall, he noticed many things at once. She was limping. There was a chunk of hair missing on her scalp. She was doing nothing to dry herself off magically. Who on earth was this person? What had happened to the insufferable little know-it-all that had driven him nearly insane with the never ending hand waving during class? This was not that girl. This was only the shell of the person who was one of the best students Hogwarts had ever had.

He opened the door to the Headmistress' office and then extended his arm to show her that he was holding the heavy wooden door open for her.

"Miss Granger! This is a most unexpected visit!" McGonagall exclaimed in surprise.

Hermione saw that her old professor's eyes narrowed as she watched her, but all she did in return was smile, trying to ignore the wetness of her clothes and doing all she could to restrain the shivers as they ripped through her body. Suddenly she heard Snape muttering quietly behind her and instantly she was both dry and warm. She turned her head slightly.

"Thank you," she said, looking him directly in the eye, and he instantly froze, his mouth dropping in surprise.

Hermione frowned at the change of his expression and then realized that he was staring at her face. _Oh no! The rain must have washed away the makeup! _Immediately she wished she could run. But she out of options. Hogwarts was the only place she would feel safe.

"Miss Granger... who did this to you?"

He sounded furious. Hermione glanced at Minerva and saw the obvious look of disapproval of what had been done to her in her expression. The headmistress requested that she sit down, so that they could talk about this in civilized manner. Hermione sat down on the nearest chair, but refused to look at either one of them. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Snape took the seat diagonally from hers, probably so that he could still look at her without sitting too close to her.

"I didn't know where else to go," Hermione finally said so quietly that her old professors almost didn't hear her.

For a moment no one spoke. It was so quiet that an owl could be heard hooting from somewhere out in the dark night. Hermione turned to look out the window and saw that it was no longer raining. Just her luck, picking the exact worst moment to arrive at Hogwarts. It hadn't rained when she had left Diagon Alley, the rain had been pouring down when she arrived and now, ten minutes after getting inside the castle, it had stopped once more. Sodding unbelievable. Then the dead quiet was broken with–

"This was not done by a stranger."

Snape's statement was so straight to the point and true that Hermione flinched violently enough to nearly fall of the seat. Snape and McGonagall shared a look and then the headmistress raised herself from her seat, walking around the large desk to get closer to her former student.

"I do not believe that we have to discuss anything tonight. The hour is late and I am sure we are all tired. You are safe her, Miss Granger. We can talk in the morning or whenever you feel ready."

Hermione slowly raised her eyes to meet the concerned ones of Minerva McGonagall. She hadn't seen anyone look like that at her in several years. Ron had never worried about her. He had always begged her to forgive him, but he never once worried that he had gone to far. She wished she could run in to the arms of her old head of house and just cry – cry about Ron, cry about being on the run, cry about everything she had kept bottled in for so long.

"Might I a make a suggestion, headmistress, before you cart us off to bed?"

"Of course, Severus, what is it?"

"It might be in Miss Granger's best interest to fabricate some adequate story for her being here. Unless, of course, you wish to remain hidden in your quarters during your stay, Miss Granger?"

Hermione blinked in confusion. _Your quarters_, he said. That made it sound like they wouldn't put her in Gryffindor tower somewhere as she first had thought. He was looking her straight in the eye, his eyes narrowing a fraction when she didn't answer him. She quickly murmured a soft reply, conveying that she had no interest in being more hidden than she already was.

"Have you been studying at all since you left Hogwarts?" Snape wondered, even though he knew she had been taking Advanced Potion-Making.

The class in question never accepted Hogwarts students without first consulting him, to make sure that the student was serious about the art of Potion-Making and had the amplitude to take on the logic of said art form.

"Potions, but I dropped the class months ago," came the swift reply.

This was news to Severus, but his face betrayed no surprise. He merely inclined his head and then continued raptly.

"Very well. Then you are here as my apprentice."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she stared at him in open shock. As far as she knew, Snape had never, during all his years of teaching, taken on an apprentice. Minerva hid a smile behind her hand – this certainly was a first. She glanced at Dumbledore's portrait, almost laughing when she saw the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Wonderful idea, Severus," the headmistress acknowledged with an approving nod. "There are quarters in the dungeons, which I hope are reasonably clean. Dobby!"

Hermione jumped at the sound of Dobby's 'pop', but quickly regained her composure with a reminder that belonging to the magical world meant not being skittish about every little sound.

"How cans I be of service to Headmistress?" the always-eager-to-help little elf asked with his squeaky voice.

"I would like for you to ready the guest quarters in the dungeons for Miss Granger," she told him and indicated to Hermione with a nod in her direction.

Dobby turned and saw her for the first time, his eager expression replaced by a huge grin.

"Miss Hermione! A pleasure it is to see yous again!"

Hermione smiled with delight. She always enjoyed seeing the elf that had cause Harry so much grief and trouble, but who still always managed to get back on Harry's good side.

"Likewise, Dobby."

He bowed dramatically and then with a 'pop' he was gone. Hermione felt that the short moment of happiness had gone with him when he disappeared. She suddenly felt very tired. When was the last time she had slept? _Really_ slept?

"One matter remains, Miss Granger," Snape said when the elf was gone. "May we heal you?"

The question caught Hermione off guard. She automatically raised her hand to put it on the wound on her back, but changed her mind halfway trough. Dropping her hand back to her lap, she also quickly turned her gaze to the carpet under her feet. Severus had seen her hand go for her back and that made him certain that she was hurting, just as he has suspected down at the gate. He also noticed the troubled look in her eyes. Something was causing her inner turmoil. He glanced at Minerva. She appeared to be oblivious, which didn't really come as a surprise to him – he had, after all, learned to look for the little things during his years as a spy.

"You... I don't–"

"Only the bruises on your face and the gap of hair missing, of course," Snape said when he sensed her discomfort. "To remain inconspicuous."

Hermione stared at him for a long time, trying to remember a time when Severus Snape ever had cared about anything concerning her. She came up with nothing. Why on earth did he appear to be so concerned now?

"Miss Granger?"

His smooth voice called her back from her thoughts. He was giving her an expectant look, as if waiting for something. _Oh right. _He was waiting for her to answer him. She only nodded, her eyes downcast. She saw from the corner of her eye that he stood and walked to stand in front of her.

"In order for me to do this, Miss Granger, you must raise your head up a bit."

She was really getting annoyed of hearing her last name in every sentence that came out of his mouth. She wanted to hear him say 'Hermione'. Ron hadn't called her that in... Actually, she couldn't remember when he had called her that last time. By now, she would be thrilled to hear _anyone _call her by her first name. Refraining from uttering this out loud, she lifted her head a fraction until she had forced herself to reach the level of his eyes with her own. She remained motionless while he softly murmured spells to heal her bruises. Her scalp prickled a bit when the missing hairs had magically grown back.

"That should be sufficient," he said as he put his wand away and then he gave her a piercing look. "For now."

Hermione gulped, but she didn't comment. All she wanted now was a good night's sleep in a room and in a bed where she had nothing to fear. She never would have guessed that coming back to Hogwarts would feel as if she had finally come home.


	2. Affirmation

AN: Thanks to my reviewers! I will try to update as often as I can, but in a few weeks I have two tests in English on University level. During Christmas I should be able to update often.

Chapter One

Affirmation

Waking up the next day, Hermione felt disoriented. Granted that she was only squinting, but she could tell that this bed was not hers. The sheets were much too silky and much too... _purple_ to belong to her – she would never ever even consider buying sheets that were _that_ purple. As a matter of fact, she would never buy sheets that were any kind of purple. Where was she? Opening her eyes, she blinked a few times and then sat up in the large bed, taking in her surroundings. The room she was in looked like a fancy-pants dungeon. She frowned in confusion. A fancy-pants dungeon? Then she smacked her head against her knees as yesterdays events came crashing back to her. She couldn't help laughing at herself. How could she have forgotten that she had fled to Hogwarts? She shook her head and then stretched out her body across the bed like a cat. Letting out a content sigh, she vaguely wondered what time it was. She could barely remember when she had felt this well rested before.

There was a knock on the door and a wave of panic came over her as she flew up in a sitting position. She immediately felt stupid and could barely restrain herself from rolling her eyes. There was no need to feel panicked here, just as she had no reason to worry in any other kind of way. Ron wouldn't be able to hurt her here. Scrambling out of bed, she pulled a bathrobe on that she found hanging on a gold-plated hook on the inside of the bedroom door and then she slowly opened the door. She let out a small breath of relief when she saw that it was only Dobby.

"Good day to you, Miss Hermione!" the little house-elf squeaked when he saw her. "Headmistress asked Dobby to bring Miss Hermione food and a fresh set of towels."

He gestured towards the little one-person table in the corner of the room, where Hermione saw a plate of soup, freshly baked bread and big glass of pumpkin juice. Her stomach grumbled so loudly at the sight of it that she almost felt embarrassed.

"Thank you, Dobby," she said kindly and reached out her hands to take the towels that were still in his arms.

He flashed a grin before he disappeared. Hermione gently put the towels on the couch and then hurried towards the food. She drank greedily of the pumpkin juice, realizing that she had not had a single drop of the delicious beverage since the last time she had been at Hogwarts. Just then, a clock chimed at the other side of the room. Hermione automatically looked at it and at the sight of what time it was, she somehow managed to choke on the juice. _Three thirty! _her mind nearly screamed as she coughed up the juice that had gone down the wrong pipe. She never slept past eight! But that was of course due to the fact that Ron woke her every morning at that time on those few occasions when she didn't get up before eight to make him breakfast. No wonder she felt so good this morning. She had not only fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, she had also managed to sleep through most of the day.

After she had eaten, she decided to take a nice, long shower and then go see Professor McGonagall. She felt obligated to explain why she was here and the state she had been in upon arrival. The hot water felt good on her skin, but she forgot about the wound on her back and cried out in pain as the water hit it the first time. Slowly she got used to the heat and to the pain and vowed to herself not to forget to ask McGonagall to heal the wound after they had spoken.

When she was dressed, she felt a bit restless. She wanted to unpack the duffel bag, but she did not want to take for granted that she would be allowed to stay here. Instead she left the quiet room to face the bustling energy from the students of the school. She swung the door open and nearly crashed into the chest of Severus Snape.

"Miss Granger, watch where you are going," he snapped as he reached out to steady the staggering woman.

He immediately let her go when he felt her tense. They looked at each other for a moment in silence. A voice inside Hermione's head was screaming for answers. Why was he here? Yes, that was the dominant question that she really wanted the answer for. Just as she opened her mouth to straight out ask him, he beat her to it.

"The headmistress wanted me to come collect you," he said and scowled, leaving no doubt in Hermione's mind how little he enjoyed running such errands.

He gave no further information. Instead he turned on his heel and started down the deserted corridor, his robes billowing after him. She assumed this meant that he wanted her to follow him, so she hurried after him and was forced to take very large steps in order to keep up with his pace. Just as yesterday, neither one of them uttered a word. They met no one along the way.

Once inside the headmistress's office, Snape had her sit down on the same chair she had occupied during their last meeting. McGonagall arrived a moment later, carrying a stack of books and on top of the stack there was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"I trust you slept well, Miss Granger?" she asked as she put down the books on her desk.

"I slept very well, thank you. But I really would prefer if you could call me Hermione instead of Miss Granger. It makes me feel as if I am still in school."

McGonagall gave her a gentle smile and then nodded in acknowledgement.

"I will agree to call you Hermione if you agree to call me Minerva."

Hermione gave her old professor an alarmed look. Call her former professor and head of house by her first name? McGonagall caught the look in her eyes.

"Just as you are no longer my student, I am no longer your professor. We are merely two adults acknowledging that there no longer exists any reason as to why they should call each other by their last names," McGonagall said with the hint of a smile.

She almost laughed, but Hermione bit the inside of her lip control herself.

"As you wish then, Prof– I mean, Mi-Minerva," Hermione finally managed to get out, even though she stumbled a bit on the words.

Minerva nodded her head, seemingly pleased. Hermione dared a glance at the surly Potions Master and that was all she needed to realize that he would not permit any first names what so ever. Turning her attention back to the headmistress, she saw that the older woman's expression grew serious and she seated herself on a chair close to Hermione.

"Are you ready to inform us as to what brought you here in the middle of the night?" she asked softly and gave Hermione a searching look.

Hermione took a long, deep breath before she slowly nodded her head. She was in no hurry to start her tale, and both of the professors seemed to be patient. Hardly knowing where to being, she finally started with the most obvious.

"I'm sure you can both guess who I am running from," she started as she nervously twisted her hands in her lap. "And that's why the situation is so complicated."

"Are you in fact admitting then, Miss Granger, that it was indeed Mr Weasly who did this to you?" Snape asked slowly, his eyes narrowing at the mentioning of Ron.

Hermione kept her eyes glued to her hands while she nodded. She did not see the furious look in Snape's eyes, nor the fact that his hands were balled up so tightly that the knuckles were turning white.

"I... I cannot begin to try to remember when it had started – when he started drinking, when he changed so completely. Maybe it had always been there from the beginning, being forced to live with the constant attention Harry always got. I think he's always been very jealous, being the last son of six, and then getting Harry Potter as his best friend couldn't have made it any better."

Her tale was told in a monotonous way and she had a far away look in her eyes.

"Then I went and became the highest scoring graduate of Hogwarts in fifty years! For a while, I was as famous as Harry. Maybe that's when it slowly started going so terribly wrong. I didn't notice that anything was off until we had lived together for a few months. He didn't get accepted to Auror school with Harry. He started coming home late and he was usually more or less drunk. At first I was understanding. Then... I became worried. And not long after that, I was scared. But by then it was already too late."

There was a lump forming in her throat, she was so close to tears. She swallowed and then inhaled deeply, daring a look at Minerva. Her expression was a mixture of troubled, worried and sad. Snape was not showing any traces of what he was thinking or feeling, as if there was a mask securely attached to his face that kept all his emotions at bay.

"What made you decide to leave last night, Hermione?" Minerva wondered when she hadn't spoken for quite some time.

"I'm not sure what finally made me realize that I had to leave... The revelation that I should not have to live like this just suddenly came to me. He has done me so much harm... I haven't even told you the worst parts yet."

She raised her hand to her shoulder and turned to look at Snape.

"I think you noticed that something was wrong here yesterday," she said as she gently patted her back. "A few nights ago he decided that he was hungry and when I wasn't fast enough to fix him a sandwich, he decided to help, or at least that is what I suppose he was thinking about doing. But he started swinging around the knife I had used to cut the bread behind my back and in some way he managed to cut me open."

As she spoke, Snape arose from the chair and slowly took a few steps towards her. He reached for her shoulder, searching Hermione's eyes for permission and as soon as she nodded, he gently slid the t-shirt down a bit. She heard him suck his breath in. Without bothering to ask her for permission, he whipped his wand out and muttered a spell to heal the wound. After he was done, he carefully stroke his finger along the scar he knew she would always have. An unexpected feeling swept through Hermione's entire body when he caressed her skin. It had been so long since she had felt any kind of desire for a man that she at first couldn't identify the emotions that flitted through her whole being. It was over in a second, but Hermione could feel that her cheeks were flushed and she hoped that they wouldn't notice. Snape gave her a odd look as he stepped back from her, a look she had never seen on him before and that she couldn't possibly understand. He didn't know that he had made her blush, did he? She bit the bottom of her lip and then blinked a few times to try to remember what she was going to tell them next. Oh yes. The most troublesome part of the whole situation.

"There is one last thing I need to tell you and it's also the worst," she said, letting the words rush out of her as quickly as possible so that she wouldn't lose her nerve. "I have lost control of my magic."

Her last few words were barely more than a whisper, but she knew that they had heard her – Minerva let out a gasp of surprise while Severus let out of stream of quiet curses. It was not unheard of that some witches and wizards lost control of their magic, but it was unusual that it had happened to someone so young. Apart from that, neither Minerva or Severus had ever known anyone who didn't have complete control of the magic they possessed. A person's magic was a part of who you were. If Hermione had lost control of hers, it meant that she was far more hurt and betrayed and scared of Ron than she let on.

"Can you not summon your magic at all?" Minerva finally asked, breaking the silence that had endured after Hermione's shocking news.

"I can, but it seldom does what I want. Watch," she answered and then pulled her wand out from the pocket in her sweater. "_Accio_ Daily Prophet!"

Nothing happened. Hermione let out a frustrated noise of impatience. She said the spell again, more forceful this time, and now the newspaper wobbled a bit, but then flapped down on the floor. Hermione looked at it with a miserable expression, but didn't dare to look at either of her old professors. She sighed as she raked her brain for another spell that could be a good example to show them. Ah, of course. Why not a spell she had mastered since her first year at Hogwarts?

"Er, you might want to brace yourself for this one – I've not tried it since I noticed that my magic wasn't quite right," she warned the two professors, then pointed her wand at the Daily Prophet and said "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" as she moved her wand in the 'swish and flick' motion that Professor Flitwick had taught her so many years ago.

The newspaper shot up in the air and then went blaasting out the window like a bullet, creating a small, but noticeable whole in the glass. Hermione stared after it with resigned surprise. Minerva had a kept her eyes on the newspaper, while Severus had kept his keen, observing gaze on Hermione. He saw that she did everything right – the right wand moment, the right word emphasis. She had done nothing to make the newspaper fly so forcefully out the window. She was right to be troubled – she would have to work very hard if she wished to regain control of her magic.

"_Reparo_," she muttered without thinking, her wand pointed at the broken window.

All three adults jumped when the entire window shattered into a million pieces, Hermione being the only one to react verbally as she let out a piercing shriek of surprise.

"Thank you, Hermione, I think we have seen enough," Minerva said faintly as she raised her wand towards the empty window frame.

Saying the same spell that she had just used to destroy the window, Hermione watched as the tiny pieces of glass arranged themselves back to where they were supposed to be. She sighed, feeling utterly useless.

"Does Mr Weasly know that he has caused you to lose control?" Minerva wondered next, seating herself back on the chair.

Hermione considered the question seriously for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't think he ever noticed, mainly due to the fact that I stopped using magic. I was afraid that I would set the whole flat on fire."

A moment of silence. Then–

"Does Mr Potter know anything about what has happened?"

Hermione gave Minerva a troubled look.

"Harry is so busy, he probably wouldn't have time to meet with me... Anyway, I don't want to burden him with my problems."

"Burden him with you problems?" Severus repeated in a low hiss. "You have no control of your magic! You have lost the ability to use the simplest spells because the one who claimed to love you abused you so! He should be put in Azkaban for what he has done to you, Miss Granger. He is no better than the pathetic Death Eaters I once spent my worthless time with!"

Hermione couldn't control the shock she felt at hearing her old Potions professor speak (or rather roar) this way about what had been done to her. She also thought that he was using quite strange words to describe the Death Eaters (had some of them not been his friends?) and his time (he really considered his time to be _worthless_?)

"We all know that precious Potter's time is valuable, but if you for one second believe that he would not lay aside everything to come to you in your need, then you really must have forgotten who he is!"

Minerva put a hand on his arm to calm him and shot him a look of incredulous disbelief. She had not seen him so passionate about anything since before the war had ended.

"What I think Professor Snape is trying to convey, Hermione, is that Harry is so full of love when it comes to his friends, especially you, and he will always have time for you if you need him," Minerva tried to rephrase.

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I know that, but I don't want to force Harry to choose a side. I'm not the only best friend he's got – Ron has been his best mate since they met on the train first year."

Snape sneered at her, his mouth formed into a line so thin that it almost looked as if he had no lips.

"If _the-boy-who-lived_" – she didn't miss that his tone was full of disdain at the the over-used nickname that Harry loathed – "chooses to side with Mr Weasly, then perhaps he is not the good friend you thought he was."

All remaining color drained from Hermione's already very pale face as Snape voiced one of her biggest fears – that Harry, all her friends, everyone she knew in the magical, would side with Ron. If that were to happen... well, then it didn't really matter that she no longer could do proper magic. She couldn't stay in a world where magic surrounded everything without the support of her friends and those she had come to view as family. The entire clan of Weasleys she considered to be family – what if she lost them on account for something that she couldn't be blamed for?

"Take a deep breath, Hermione," Minerva instructed her as she shot Severus a must-you-agonize-her-so kind of look. "I couldn't possibly imagine that this is something you need to worry about. The important thing now is for you to regain control."

Hermione breathed deeply in and out. She knew that Minerva was right, but it was hard not to worry about the future.

"How will I do that?" she asked quietly, almost desperately, looking at Minerva for answers.

Minerva gave her a brief look of sympathy before she turned to Severus. Hermione immediately knew what that meant and her insides turned slightly from the nervousness that suddenly filled her – her old head of house had absolutely no idea how to fix this. She would have to rely on a person that had always seemed to hate her, on the one person who had never appeared to be impressed by the power and magical abilities she possessed. It took an extra moment before she dared to look at him. His gaze was already on her, giving her a calculating leer, his mouth pressed into a thin, almost evil smile. Hermione gulped. Was he really looking at her like that or was she just imagining things?

"I hope you realize, Miss Granger, that I have no obligation what so ever to help you," he started off by saying, his arms folded across his chest. "If you however are prepared to work hard and relinquish all your free time to assist me with brewing potions to the infirmary, then I am willing to sacrifice my time to help you."

Two minutes ago he had claimed that his time was worthless. Know he was saying that the time it would take to help her was a sacrifice he was willing to make _if_ she would brew potions for him? Hermione didn't quite know what to make of the man.

"Sir, why do you need my assistance with the potions?" she wondered, a small frown indicating that she really didn't understand why this was necessary.

His eyes narrowed at the question and Hermione found herself wishing she could take it back.

"Because if you agree to this, then all _my_ free time will be spent helping _you_," he replied coldly.

Hermione's mouth formed into a voiceless 'oh' as she understood the implications – when he wasn't teaching or grading papers, he spent his time restocking the supply of various healing potions for Madame Pomfrey. Now, when he wasn't teaching or grading papers, he would be spending his time with her, helping her with her magic. When she thought about it, it really did make sense for her to help him. After all, her magic was wonky, but there was no need for 'foolish wand-waving' while making potions, recalling her former professor's words from her very first year at Hogwarts.

"I understand," she whispered, her head bowed – she didn't want to see him sneer at her.

"Do you agree then?"

His voice was still cold and calm at the same time. Hermione quickly nodded her head.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" he barked and Hermione's head snapped up to meet his penetrating gaze. "Furthermore, I really believe you to be capable of saying 'yes' instead of simply nodding your head as a scared little first year."

Hermione's cheeks burned at this and at first she wanted to defy him by not saying anything at all, but as she thought this through, she realized that it would be a bad idea to antagonize him when he had just offered to help her get the control of her magic back. Besides, she was not five years old. She sighed in defeat.

"Yes, sir, I agree to your terms."

His eyes glinted strangely, but he didn't comment. As a matter of fact, his expression conveyed no hint that he had heard her. He simply seemed... bored.

"Well, now that you have come to an agreement, I think it might be a good idea to meet with her every evening, Severus," Minerva said, having looked back and forth between them during their exchange with a feeling of amusement. "We will announce to the students and staff that you are here as Professor Snape's apprentice and I am certain it will only take a day or so before it is printed in the Daily Prophet."

Hermione's eyes bulged at the mentioning of this becoming public knowledge. She swallowed to get rid of the lump that had formed in her throat. Ron would know she was here by tomorrow or the next day.

"Don't fret, child," Minerva said softly, "you are safe here. You are welcome to stay here until we have sort this out."

Hermione tried to smile, but it came off more as a grimace. She wasn't sure if Minerva meant that she was welcome to stay until she had her magic back in check or if she was allowed to stay until the whole mess with Ron was over and done with.

"Are you ready to begin this evening, Miss Granger, or do you need more time to acclimate to your new surroundings?" Snape asked, his tone silky.

She really did want more time to get used to her new freedom and home, if that was indeed what Hogwarts was to her now. But she could hardly imagine that Snape was seriously asking her if she felt ready to start. He was testing her in some peculiar way, that she was certain of.

"The sooner we start, the better, wouldn't you say, sir?" she answered with a small smile.

Snape did not smile back, which, when she thought about it, would have made her quite alarmed if he had, since he had never smiled when looking at her.

"Indeed, Miss Granger. Indeed."

He might as well have said straight out what they both knew he was thinking – the sooner they started, the sooner he would be rid of her.

"My office. Seven o'clock. Do not be late," he warned and then swept out of the room.

Hermione couldn't help but follow his exit with round eyes. Did she really know what she had gotten herself in to?


	3. First lesson

AN: Thanks to my reviewers and all loyal readers!

The magical theory on why someone would lose control of his/hers magic in this chapter, is purely from my own imagination. I have tried researching this topic online, but haven't found anything specific. If any of you readers know where I could find this type of information, please let me know. For now, here's how I see it:

Chapter Two

First Lesson

Hermione fidgeted nervously outside the door she knew to be the entrance to Professor Snape's office. What was it about the man that made her so anxious? Maybe it was the fact that he was such a living reminder of the war. Severus Snape had done everything possible to make people believe that his true allegiance was to Voldemort after Dumbledore's death. Hermione did not doubt that all of this had been nothing but a charade – Harry had shared some of the memories that Snape had bestowed upon him, so she knew that Snape had no love for the Dark Lord. Still... Knowing was one thing, but it was one of those things that occasionally could be somewhat difficult to remember and be certain off. Even after the end of the war, when his true loyalties were revealed, he was the same man he had always been – cold, mysterious, distant... And not to forget, Snape had been viscous to her (and everybody else who wasn't in Slytherin) in school. When she thought about, it made more sense to her to be anxious of this man than not to be.

She sucked her breath in, summoned her Gryffindor bravery and knocked on the door.

"Enter," she heard the cold voice of Severus Snape mutter.

He was grading papers at a large desk, the wood so dark it almost looked black. He did not look up when she opened or closed the door, nor did he seem to be in a hurry to acknowledge her presence. She waited patiently, not wanting to do anything that might upset him. She vaguely remembered Harry's catastrophic Occlumency session in his fifth year – she did not want to cause any situation that could cause him throw her out.

"Good, you have a patience," he said suddenly, his tone silky. "You will need that."

Hermione wondered what he meant by that, but still said nothing. His eyes were glued to the paper; he had yet to look at her. She took this moment to glance around the room – she had not really taken much time to look around when she had been in the room in her second year to steal boomslang skin and bicorn horn for the Polyjuice Potion. Just as she remembered, the walls were covered with shelves of large jars made out of glass, containing various potions ingredients that were too precious or dangerous to keep out in the students storage. The room was warm due to the fact that the fireplace that had been cold and dark during her last visit, now held a raging fire – a fleeting line of thought had her wondering if Professor Snape had lit the fire for her benefit, but she disregarded this. Why would he do something so trivial as to make the room warm and less threatening for _her_? It was more likely that he nowadays just enjoyed it that way.

There was a surprising amount of color in the room. The curtains on the only window of the room were Slytherin green and silver, as was the large carpet under the desk. He had an oil-lamp on one corner of the desk, and on the other there was a Pensieve. Hermione tilted her head as she looked at the shallow stone basin and she wondered if this was the same Pensieve that had once belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

"Have you any idea as to why a witch or a wizard occasionally loses the ability to perform controlled magic?" he asked, his question cutting through the silence, making Hermione jump slightly.

She sighed quietly, being immensely tired of jumping at every little thing that took her a teensy bit by surprise.

"I wasn't actually quite aware that it was a possibility until it happened," she answered, adding 'to me of all people' in her mind.

She recoiled from the thought – she hadn't know that she was so bitter about this whole matter until now. Weird that it had taken her so long to realize that. She loved being a witch and everything about the magical world. How could she be anything but bitter and upset that she now was reduced to some bizarre mix of a witch and a muggle?

"And I haven't really given it much thought, even after it happened ," she continued, shrugging her shoulders. "I got accustomed to not use magic."

Snape's eyes had left the papers while she had spoken and their gazes met for the first time since she had entered his office. He was now giving her a piercing look, as if the answer had caught him off guard. He didn't show this of course, not directly, but the way he was just staring at her made her feel as if she had said something wrong.

"Are you telling me," he said quietly (was that a tiny smile playing on his lips?), "that the most famous know-it-all Hogwarts has ever seen is shamelessly admitting that she does not know the answer to a question?"

She gaped at him and her cheeks flushed with anger. She was completely incapable of hiding how much his words upset her – her eyes narrowed dangerously and her fists twitched into balls. How dare he mock her this way? She was not a student at Hogwarts, she was an adult! An adult who was in desperate need for help with the one fundamental thing that made her a witch. She turned around on the spot and reached for the doorknob when she heard a chair scrape against the floor, but she was already on the other side of the door by the time he had gotten up.

Hermione stormed off to her room, angry tears clouding her vision as she half-ran down the halls. She was so frustrated at Snape, but mostly she was frustrated with herself for not being able to come up with some kind of retort. She had fled like a little girl that had been bullied in to silence and now she was going to have to pay for that mistake later. Snape was not going to let her off easy, she knew that in her gut.

"Miss Granger."

She whirled around and let out a shocked gasp when she almost collided with Snape's chest. His arms shot out once again to steady her and then he immediately let her go.

"I do not recall you being so clumsy, Miss Granger," he drawled, meeting her gaze steadily.

"Well, I recall you being a bastard, so I guess you're the only one who is surprised here."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and Hermione threw her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified. She couldn't believe that she had just said that! Did she have a death wish?

"I will let that one slide, Miss Granger, for this time and this time only," he hissed, his eyes ablaze with fury.

She lowered her hand and her expression was now full of suspicion.

"I... _apologize _for my words," he said very quietly.

The way he said 'apologize' and wrinkled his nose at the same time, made it clear for Hermione that this wasn't a word that was in his daily vocabulary. But she was incredulous, so incredulous that her mouth dropped in open shock and all she could do was stare at him – Severus Snape had just apologized to her!

"I am certain you know of the expression 'old habits die hard'," he continued, just as quietly.

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but she managed not to.

"I understand that you are not doing this out of the good of your heart," she said, her eyes blazing with defiance. "You're doing this because... well actually, I can't understand why you're doing this. But you agreed to do it, if I help you brew potions, and therefor I will not allow you to mock and ridicule me in such ways. I am not your student, but I won't go so far as to claim that we're equals – I know you don't see it that way. But I am an adult in desperate need of your help and I beg you not to take advantage of that."

During her speech his eyes had narrowed more and more and his lips had steadily been pressed into a very thin line. He took a step forward, which caused Hermione to take a step back. This continued until Hermione had her back pressed back against the wall. He was less than at arms length from her.

"Answer me honestly, Miss Granger. Do you fear me?" he hissed quietly.

Her eyes widened at the unexpected question.

"Yes," she whispered.

He only nodded and he took a few steps back from her.

"Accompany me back to my office, Miss Granger," he ordered, but when he saw her cross her arms over her chest, he added "_Please_."

He started walking back down the hall and he never turned to check that she was following him. She sighed in defeat, realizing that she had no other choice than to obey him. She hurried to catch up with him, but she still walked several steps behind him. He held the door open for her, but then walked straight past her when he stopped just inside the entrance. He sat down by one of the two armchairs by the fireplace and then gestured for her to join him. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually she guardedly joined him.

"We are only going to talk today, Miss Granger. You need to begin thinking of why this has happened to you."

He paused and waited for her to get comfortable in the chair. Hermione sunk further into the cozy, soft chair as she shivered from the sudden warmth that radiated from the fire.

"In order for this to work, you must be willing to give me honest answers – no matter what that might entail. In other words, whenever I ask you a question, I will expect you to be truthful. Understood?"

His tone gave little room to argue with. Hermione was quick to nod and only afterwards did she think about what she was agreeing to. Had she just given him permission to ask any question about her life? _Any_ question?

"I imagine that you have always been a bit afraid of me, Miss Granger, as most of the students I have had the displeasure of teaching over the years," he continued, his eyes searching her face for a reaction, "and thus the speech you just gave made me quite... surprised."

She opened her mouth to say something to convey that she was sorry, but when she saw that Snape's mouth thinned and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, she snapped her mouth shut.

"Why is it that you can rant at me, a person you have always feared, in such a manner, but not confront the person with whom you are living?"

"Were," Hermione automatically corrected him. "Were living. As in, not anymore. Haven't lived with him for a day, so we're not... anymore."

_Shut up, Hermione, you're babbling! _her mind yelled to her.

"That may be true," Snape offered coldly and then looked at her in silence for a moment. "I am curious, Miss Granger. Why is it that you can tell me off so profoundly, yet dare not say anything whatsoever to Mr Weasley?"

She stared at him for a moment. His gaze did not waver. After a few seconds she blinked rapidly.

"I don't know," she whispered, feeling pathetic.

She hated to admit that she didn't know. Least of all to Severus Snape!

Snape traced his finger across his lips while he searched her face for any kind of unmasked emotion. He didn't have to look long – just like Potter she was as easy to read as an open book. Damn Gryffindor's, always displaying their emotions clearly for everyone to see! It was obvious to him that she was afraid. Very afraid. But not of him – not really. In one way she did (who didn't?), but she was not scared to death by him, like she was with Mr Weasley.

"When did it start?"

Hermione didn't answer – she was staring in to the fire and acting as if she hadn't heard him. He cleared his throat loudly and she jumped (she certainly did that a lot, didn't she?).

"I'm sorry? Did you say something?"

He bristled and his eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Miss Granger, if you are not going to pay attention when I speak with you, perhaps this is not going to work!" he practically yelled, standing up to be able to tower over her.

Her eyes widened, then were tightly shut again as she shrunk back into the armchair.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, pure anguish in her tone, as she threw her arms up to cover her face.

Snape was so shocked by this display of raw fear from the woman that had helped vanquish the Dark Lord, that he only stared at her for the longest time with his mouth hanging open. He was a man that was seldom surprised, but even less so, he never, ever felt frightened for someone else. But this time he was – here was proof at how much Ronald Weasley had managed to frighten and scar the brightest witch of her age. She was absolutely terrified. Snape felt a weird sensation in his stomach that he did not recognize and he gulped. Was it sympathy?

He did not know what to do. Hermione still had her arms over her face and her breath was shallow, as if she was having some kind of panic attack. He realized at once why all of this seemed so familiar – he had seen his mother behave the exact same way, cowering under his father.

He sat down again and after a moments hesitation, he reached out to pry the young woman's arms away from her face.

"Miss Granger, I am not going to harm you," he said quietly when she resisted, but he retreated his arms and was then smart enough to take several steps away from her.

She noticed all of this and after a moment, her arms lowered. Her breathing was still shallow, but is was slowly calming down. At first she did not dare look at him, but when the moments turned into long minutes, she felt the need to glance at him. Snape stood by the mantelpiece – he was staring at the flames, but his expression was blank. She wondered what he was thinking. He seemed to be off some where very far away from the office they were in.

"I am sorry, sir," Hermione said after a while, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

Snape stirred from his thoughts and he turned his now grim expression towards her.

"I may be a bastard, Miss Granger," he murmured, recalling her words from earlier in the hall, "but I would never strike someone who so obviously is completely defenseless. I know that trust is something that will likely never exist between us, but I promise you that I will never physically harm you."

Hermione suddenly felt ashamed for her reaction. It was just the same way she had reacted so many times before when Ron's temper had turned on her – she had been an easy prey for him. Even in the beginning, when she still had control of her magic, she could have fought him off magically and she had, to start with. After a while she realized that whenever she fought back, Ron took three times as long to cool down, which resulted in Hermione shutting off completely so he would finish quicker.

"I... understand you a bit better now, Miss Granger. You are truly afraid, but not of me. I will... _try_ to keep my anger in check, but you must be able to keep up with me. I do not enjoy repeating myself."

"I understand, sir."

He took the seat next to her again, when he saw that she had calmed down. For a moment neither of them spoke.

"I don't agree with you, by the way," Hermione suddenly said, as a wave of bravery swept through her.

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, and he almost looked alarmed.

"I think trust can exist between us," she hurried to say, realizing that he might think she was referring to his promise about not hurting her. "Trust can always be earned with time."

Snape stared at her for a moment and then simply gave a short nod in acknowledgement of the truth of her words. In any case, it was a waste of time to try to convince her just how unlikely it really was.

The remainder of the hour, Hermione told Snape about her life with Ron. She was unable to remember exactly when everything had gone wrong – too much had happened for her to recall the first incident. There were a few nights that stood out in her memory, like the knife incident and the last time when she had finally decided to leave. But most of her memories were a blur – they were all kind of merged into one single long, but blurry, memory.

"So you stopped fighting back, both magically and physically," Snape mused, "which I am guessing then caused your magical core to have a some sort of nervous breakdown and then started failing you."

"But why, sir?"

"Your magic is entwined with your soul – it is a part of who you are to the same degree as your soul is, and if something occurs that shakes your entire world quite profoundly, sooner or later a part of you will be affected. The more common reaction to this is a mental breakdown that can treated, with time. But once in a while, the magic within you will be affected instead."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"Usually the witch or wizard loses the ability to do any magic, but this does not seem to be the case with you," he continued softly, his eyes turned to watch the fire. "You seem to be the exception to the rule, Miss Granger. However, losing control of magic is a matter that is seldom discussed within the wizarding society, so I have no references at my disposal whilst trying to help you."

Snape stopped again, knowing in advance that she was going to ask a question – he even knew exactly what question it was going to be as well.

"Sir, why is it not discussed within the wizarding society?"

Yes, just the question he had expected.

"Because, Miss Granger," he started, turning his piercing gaze towards her, "most families find that sort of information to be equally bad as to having a squib in the family – as a matter of fact, being a witch or a wizard, especially a pure-blooded witch or wizard, and then to lose the ability to perform magic later on in life is usually treated with greater secrecy than a family member being a squib."

Hermione had wrinkled her nose in disgust as he spoke.

"Well, I think it's despicable. Instead of trying to help these individuals, they are locked away by their families. Sometimes I forget how backwards this society is compared to the muggle world."

Snape's mouth twitched, but he didn't say anything – it wouldn't do well for her to know that she had managed to catch his interest. He desperately wanted to know what she meant, but this was not the time nor the place to discuss the muggle world.

"Backwards it may be, but it is the society we live in and we cannot change history. You must understand, Miss Granger, that this is something that occurs so seldom that when it does, people are afraid of the implications – why has it happened, can it cured, what will happen if it cannot? In some ways it is easier to just not take action and the hide the affected witch or wizard away from the rest of the world."

"Like with Ariana Dumbledore then," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Snape's eyes snapped up to hers.

"I beg your pardon?" he demanded.

Hermione looked startled.

"Ariana Dumbledore, sir – she lost control of her magic when she was six after being assaulted by muggle boys."

"How do you know this?"

Hermione gave him a surprised look.

"What do you mean, sir? Rita Skeeter mentions it vaguely in her book about Dumbledore."

He bristled and he shot out of the chair, away from Hermione this time.

"And you believe those lies?" he shouted, sounding absolutely furious.

"They're not lies, sir! She may not have had the whole truth, but Aberforth Dumbledore told us what happened to her on the evening the war ended!"

Hermione had never seen Snape look dumbfounded before. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing or smiling. Neither would be good to do at this moment.

"We are done for the evening, Miss Granger," he said slowly, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door. "I need to confer with the portrait of Albus Dumbledore this instant."

Hermione jerked her arm away from him.

"Very well, sir, but you do not have to drag me to the door – I can walk on my own," she snapped, readjusting the sleeve of her robes that he had managed to mess up.

"This is essential for your... rehabilitation, Miss Granger. I will call on you tomorrow."

He closed the door in Hermione's face, leaving her to feel very irritated.

"Albus Dumbledore!" Snape roared the moment he stepped out of the fire in the Headmistress's office.

Minerva shrieked and managed to drop all the papers she had been carrying across the room.

"Severus Snape! How dare you come howling in to my office in such ways! Are you out of your mind? I am an old woman – my heart cannot take it!"

Snape had the decency to look a bit ashamed.

"I am sorry, Minerva. I forgot that you might be here."

"You forgot?"

Her tone was low and cold. Any other man would be wise enough to back off when a woman used that tone, but not Severus Snape. He wasn't even listening to her anymore – he was much to busy staring at the portrait of Dumbledore. He flicked his wand at the mess of the scattered papers and they all organized themselves into the order they had been in before they ended on the floor.

"Severus, my boy!" greeted the cheery voice of Albus Dumbledore. "You seem to be angry with me."

Snape walked over to the portrait and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You are correct," he hissed. "Why is it that when Miss Granger was here in the middle of the night and told us of her... problem, you did not see it fit to mention your sister?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's dimmed. At first he didn't answer.

"I know that you were awake, Albus, so do not claim otherwise."

"I have never enjoyed thinking of that matter, Severus, and even less speaking of it."

"You know that there are no records of previous cases with Miss Granger's condition! Yet here you are with first hand information about a person who suffered the loss of controlled magic – how could you _not_ tell me?"

Dumbledore said nothing. Snape bristled and chucked the nearest thing he could find at the portrait – a paperweight.

"You still cannot confide in me, even three years after your death! I gave my life to you, I followed your every order – even the one to have me kill you! – and you cannot even divulge personal, but vital, information about your sister, information that might be essential to give 'the brightest witch of her age' control of her magic!"

Dumbledore still said nothing and after a moment he disappeared, no doubt to one of his many other portraits.

"ALBUS! COME BACK HERE!" Snape bellowed, but it was too late – Dumbledore was already gone.

The room was quiet for a moment. Then, the ever composed Severus Snape jumped in surprise when Minerva placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you not know about Ariana?" she wondered, sounding a bit confused. "I would have thought that everyone had read Rita Skeeter's book by now."

He shrugged her off.

"I was too resentful to read that appalling book when it was first published, and in the recent years I have had no interest to read a whole book which I thought was filled with nothing but lies. I should have known better – Albus Dumbledore never confided anything in me that wasn't essential to win the war."

His voice was so bitter that Minerva's heart squeezed with sympathy. Without another word, Snape flooed back to his office.

"You are truly hurting him, Albus," Minerva said to the portrait – as soon as Snape had gone, Dumbledore had come back. "I hope you know what you are doing."

"He will hurt more if he spends the rest of his life alone, Minerva. This way he might see that Miss Granger is a compatible match for him."

Minerva shook her head in exasperation.

"You are the most brilliant wizard I have ever known, Albus, but sometimes you are really dense. Since the day Severus came to Hogwarts thirty years ago he has never shown interest in any other woman than Lily Potter. But now you expect him to fall in love with a witch that is young enough to be his daughter."

"Age is of no consequence in the wizarding world, Minerva. You know that."

"Perhaps not, Albus – that doesn't change the fact that you expect him to fall in love with Hermione Granger."

The twinkle in Albus' eyes were back and he gave Minerva a small smile.

"No. It doesn't change that fact."


	4. Introducing the Potions Apprentice

Chapter Three

Introducing the Potions Apprentice

Hermione nervously fidgeted in her seat at the staff table in the Great Hall the next morning. She could tell that everyone was looking at her, and it truly unnerved her. Professor Snape had come to fetch her in her quarters not ten minutes ago, saying it was time to announce her apprenticeship to the rest of the school. She was forced to suppress the urge to hide under her bed and then followed the Potions Master down the corridors to the Hall. From the second she had set foot in the room, the talking students had suddenly started whispering to each other. She hadn't looked at any of them. Her eyes had been focused on the table where the professor's sat, because they more likely not to whisper about her. She had seen Hagrid staring at her though, a smile creeping through his surprised expression.

"Miss Granger, try to sit still," Snape hissed in an urgent whisper. "Being this openly nervous will do nothing to help your case."

She knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier to calm down. She hadn't been out in the public eye like this for months. She nibbled on her toast and then took a big gulp of her tea, forgetting that it was warm. She winced as the liquid burned her throat and she coughed violently. Snape gave her an incredulous look.

"Not had tea before?" he quipped.

Hermione stopped coughing at once and glared at him.

"May I have your attention, please," Minerva called out over the hall the next moment, standing up from the throne-like chair.

She really didn't have to – all eyes were already on the staff table, but her request had everyone quiet within five seconds. Hermione wondered if Dumbledore ever had gotten the entire student body quiet that quick.

"As you might have noticed, there is a new addition to the staff table today," she said as she vaguely gestured in the left direction. "Many of you will recognize her as Hermione Granger."

A tremor of surprise and whispers rippled across the room and Hermione saw how some students even stood up to get a better view.

"Miss Granger is a witch in no great need of a big introduction – most of you know who she is. If you don't, ask the people around you. You will always find someone who knows who she is and the great importance she had in the War."

Hermione blushed and wanted to run and hide. She had shrunk back further in her chair as Minerva spoke, doing all she could to conceal herself from the prying eyes that were watching her. Her hands were folded in her lap, her gaze steadily staring at the teacup placed before her. She knew this introduction was important, but did Minerva really have to lay it on so thick? She saw from the corner of her eye how Snape lowered his left hand under the table, and that was the only reason that kept her from jumping when she felt his hand cover hers. Her breath caught and she was so shocked by his comforting touch that she for a moment forgot everything else.

"Breath, Miss Granger," Snape said very quietly, "and calm down. The Headmistress is almost done. Then we can retire to the lab and I can show you where you will be working."

She expected him to retreat his hand, but it stayed on top of her own for the remainder of Minerva's speech. It was surprisingly warm and smooth. She marveled at how much the simple gesture managed to help her relax.

"Miss Granger returns to Hogwarts to begin an apprenticeship in potions," she heard Minerva continue. "Despite her young age, I remind you all to respect her as you do your teachers – she has the same authority over you as any of us. She will be able to give points, dock points and hand out detentions."

Hermione managed to hide the astonishment she felt at this very unexpected piece of information.

"Join me now in a round of applause to welcome back one of the greatest students Hogwarts has ever had – Miss Hermione Granger!"

As Minerva finished, the Great Hall exploded in a near ear-shattering applause. Snape retreated his hand to clap his hands together, although he did it with much more restraint. Many stood to give her a standing ovation and she was so overwhelmed by emotions she was feeling that she almost didn't even manage to smile in thanks.

"Do they expect me to say anything?" she whispered to Snape, her eyes wide with worry.

"No. Only Dolores Umbridge saw it fit to speak after the Headmasters introduction."

Hermione winced when she thought of the foul woman who had tortured Harry so. As soon as the students were back to their normal eating and socializing habits, Snape and Hermione stood to go to the potions lab.

"Hermione!"

Her face lit up into a big smile – she should have known that Hagrid wouldn't just let her run off. She whirled around and ran into the open arms of the half-giant.

"Hagrid!"

"Good ter see you, Hermione," Hagrid said as he patted her back.

He took her tiny little hand in his own.

"Why didn't yer tell me you were comin'?" he wondered and gave her a stern look.

Hermione tried not to squirm. She kind of managed – the only part she was unable to stop from twitching was the hand that currently lay in Hagrid's hand. He didn't seem to notice though.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid," she said and gave him a small smile. "It was kind of a last minute thing, it hasn't been planned for very long."

She heard Snape clear his throat, which she only took to mean one thing – it was time to go before she said too much. Hagrid, on the other hand, shot Snape a dirty look before turning back to Hermione with a warm smile.

"If he gives yer any trouble, you come see me, alright?" he said and winked, letting go of her hand.

Hermione nodded, her smile showing the genuine gratitude she felt for having someone like Hagrid so close to her. Sooner or later it would be very clear who she could count as her friends and who she couldn't. She hoped the confrontation would come later rather than sooner, but now that the entire student body knew that she was here it would only be a matter of days before something would go down. She hoped that she was strong enough for it.

"Now, Miss Granger, I do seem to remember that you showed some promise in Potions," Snape drawled as he led her to his private lab. "Thus I cannot imagine that you will need me to give you instruction on how to brew the Pepperup potion."

Hermione blinked, momentarily too surprised at the unexpected compliment she had gotten to reply in any kind of way.

"Have you still not gotten over the ovation you got in the Great Hall, Miss Granger?" Snape snapped when she didn't say anything.

He stopped and turned to look at her, his arms folded together across his chest.

"No, no, I'm over it," she hurried to say, her eyes dropping to gaze at her feet. "I don't believe that you will need to supervise me while brewing the Pepperup potion, sir."

Snape stared at her for a moment. He didn't remember her being so submissive. But then again, he had seen plenty of changes in her in the short while she had been at Hogwarts. He started towards the dungeons again, noting that the girl was following him a few steps back. As they entered his lab, Hermione was starting to feel a little uneasy. She hadn't brewed a potion in months. Usually, she never would have questioned her own ability, but that was before Ron had messed her up so completely.

"Everything you will need, ingredients, cauldrons and so forth, can be found on this side of the room," he said as he swept his arm towards the left. "Should you need a reminder of the recipe, you will find it in any of the books on that shelf."

He pointed to the shelf by the window and then his gaze grew stern.

"I am leaving you to do this on your own, Miss Granger. Must I remind you of the... consequences if you so much as touch anything other than the necessary items needed for this potion?"

Hermione quickly shook her head.

"No, sir! I wouldn't dream of doing anything I'm not allowed to!"

Snape's eyes narrowed a fraction. Hermione could swear that she saw his lips quirk as if he was about to smile, but he never did, so maybe she had imagined it.

"Well, perhaps that is true now. However, I know that you have stolen dangerous ingredients from my private storage before."

Hermione's jaw dropped. He knew about the Polyjuice Potion in her second year!

"Come, come, Miss Granger," Snape said, almost sounding amused. "When it comes to potions, there is not much I miss. The Polyjuice Potion has a very subtle, but distinct smell. I knew you were making it in your second year."

She stared at him, unable to say anything, too afraid that he would punish her. But if he had known all along, why hadn't he stopped them all those years ago?

"Ah, you are asking yourself why I did not interfere, why I did nothing to stop you?" Snape said, successfully deciphering her confused expression.

Hermione nodded, feeling quite dazed.

"I was too curious to see if you could brew it accurately. Only a handful of previous students in my N.E.W.T class would have been able to get such a complex potion right. I had planned on intercepting it before you and the two dunderheads had a chance to drink it, but I miscalculated by a day, seeing as I was unsure of when you started and could only go after its appearance. Therefor I lost my chance to hand it over to the Headmaster."

Snape had been pacing back and forth while he spoke. When he came to an end with his story, he stopped and gave Hermione a meaningful stare.

"Enough of this for today, I think. But always remember, Miss Granger – I know what you are capable off."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment, making sure to get the meaning of his words clear. She nodded carefully, her stare quite determined. He turned to leave, but just as he was about to disappear out the door, he paused.

"Double the recipe, Miss Granger. Madame Pomfrey informed me last evening that she is almost out the potion in question. Should you need me, you will find me in the usual classroom. But make sure you only need me for emergencies."

And with that he left. Hermione exhaled sharply when the door was closed. She hadn't even been aware of that she had been holding the air in. There could only be three explanations as to why Snape had just told her all of that. Either he was just reminding of her of not to steal from him again – he had been nice about it last time, but this time he would not show her mercy. Or he could have been trying to convey that he knew that she was capable of doing anything – even stealing from a teacher – to be able to get truthful information. Or perhaps he was simply reminding her that she had been able to brew a extremely difficult potion when she was just twelve years old. She wondered if Snape had felt the doubt in herself and had wanted to reassure her that she was capable of doing this.

Hermione sighed as she got to work. She remembered the potion recipe very clearly, so she knew it wouldn't be too hard for her to get it done. Letting her instincts kick in, her mind wandered to her problems. Starting tomorrow, she would be have to start living on edge again, because Ron would now know where she was. She couldn't believe that it had just been two days since her flight, it felt much longer than that. The last two days she had felt safe, that Hogwarts was her sanctuary, and knowing that Ron could pop up at any moment was bad news for her nerves.

She wondered how everyone would react when they found out she was at Hogwarts as the apprentice of Severus Snape. Sure, they wouldn't be surprised that she was working on her Potions degree, but they would be very, very surprised that she was at Hogwarts _now_, and hadn't even told anyone about it in advance. She was mostly worried about how Harry would react. Even though the relationship between him and Snape had been somewhat mended over the years, they usually tried to ignore each others presence as much as possible. However, whenever they spoke, they were civil and even showed the other respect. But that didn't mean that Harry would like or even accept that she was under the watchful eye of the greasy old bat. Although, she did have to admit that there was nothing greasy about Snape's hair nowadays. Perhaps he had time to take proper care of it now, just like she had time to tame the wild bushiness of her own hair these days.

Around noon, the potion had to simmer for an hour before it was complete. It was right before this that Hermione realized that she could not permit Harry to find out about her being at Hogwarts through the Daily Prophet. Pacing back and forth, she wondered where Professor Snape would be at this time. As if on cue, the door opened and in came said Potions Master.

"Oh, Professor Snape, thank Merlin you're here!" she exclaimed.

Snape looked startled and gave her an odd look before turning to glance at the potion.

"There does not appear to be anything wrong with the potion, Miss Granger," he stated.

Hermione looked confused.

"What? Oh, no, there isn't," she said dismissively. "I know I am probably asking for a lot, but I really need to be excused for a moment."

Snape gave her an icy glare.

"And pray tell; Miss Granger, why must you be excused at this precise moment?"

His tone was cold and if Hermione hadn't been so panicked she might have registered the warning. Now she just plowed on instead.

"I need to tell Harry why I am here in person. I can't let him find out through the Daily Prophet, I just can't. I know he usually eats lunch in his room, so he is most likely still there. Please, let me go, Professor! _Please,_" she begged him, her plead so heart-wrenching that Snape felt... something stir within hi.

He just appraised her for a moment and when he couldn't find a reason to refuse her request, other than out of pure malice, he sighed in defeat.

"Go," was all he said, his eyes downcast.

Hermione didn't waste any time. She sprinted down the hall to her room, knowing that the fireplace in her quarters would be sufficient to call Harry. If she remembered correctly, she had managed to grab the small bag of floo powder before she left the apartment and stuffed it in the bottom of her bag. She rummaged through the duffel bag, and just as she had thought, the blue bag of floo powder was in there. Throwing a handful of the green powder in the fireplace, she yelled "Harry Potter, room 14, Auror Academy!"

"Hermione!"

To be continued...

AN: Sorry for the short chapter! I just had a really hard time writing this chapter for some reason. I promise to make it up to you next time. =)


	5. Harry finds out the truth

Chapter Four

Harry finds out the truth

"Hermione!"

Harry sounded so shocked to see her that she almost laughed, but instead she started crying. It had been so long since she had seen him and she was so relieved that he hadn't changed his routine of having lunch in his dorm room, away form prying eyes. Her tears caught him off guard, but he immediately sprang to his feet.

"Stand aside. I'm coming through."

Hermione pulled back and a second later her best friend entered her quarters at Hogwarts. He rushed towards her, pulling her into his arms. She was sobbing freely now and it was breaking his heart to see her like this – what made it even worse was that he had no idea what was wrong. But he held her without saying a word, knowing that once she had calmed down, he would get the full story. After a while, as he stroke his hands over her head, he started looking around the room. _What the hell?_

"Hermione... Where are we?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She pulled back from him, wiping her tears away from her cheeks.

"We are at Hogwarts. This is a guest room in the dungeons."

He was staring at her in disbelief.

"Hogwarts? Okay... And why are here now?"

Hermione took a deep breath as she calmed her nerves. This was it – the moment she had dreaded for so long. Telling Harry the truth.

"Because I live here," was all she managed to say before he flew up on his feet.

"What?!" he hollered. "_Why_? Does Ron know?"

Hermione winced at the mentioning of Ron. She took his hand and pulled him over to the couch.

"I'm going to tell you everything, Harry, but please promise me not do anything... rash," she said as they sat down. "Neither while I'm still talking or afterwards, okay?"

Harry frowned, starting to get genuinely worried now. But he nodded his head, showing her that he went along with her terms. And then she told him everything. How Ron had slowly, but steadily changed, how his drinking habits had increased, that he had gotten violent and inconsiderate. She told him that he had abused her in every sense of the word's meaning. She had stopped going to potions class because of how she was treated at home, and soon after that she stopped going outside. Not once during her tale did she look at him, too afraid of what she would see in his reaction. She didn't see that Harry had tears in his eyes nor did she notice that he was so angry that he was shaking.

Harry felt sick. He could barely believe what he was hearing, but he never doubted her words to be untrue. When he thought back on it, he realized that he had seen some changes in Ron himself, he just hadn't been too bothered by it to investigate. He had no trouble believing that Ron drank more, because he had seen that himself. It didn't surprise him that Ron became violent, because he had never been a "good" drunk – drinking either until he passed out or just until he became ill-tempered and verbally abusive. It was during these latter, which Harry had only encountered two or three times, that made him wonder if Ron really was a true friend to him, considering all the nasty comments he had managed to throw at Harry. And why, _why_ had he never bothered to check up on Hermione? Not that he was out partying with Ron every weekend, but it happened two or three times per month and he had just taken Ron's word for it that Hermione was up studying, or not feeling well or was visiting her parents. And her letters had been uncharacteristically short and mundane. How could he have been so bloody stupid?

Hermione had taken a pause in her tale when he suddenly couldn't take it anymore. He probably startled her quite a lot when he pulled her into his embrace, but he didn't care. He needed to hold her and he was positive that she needed to be held as well.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered, the tears now blurring his vision. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

"Oh, Harry, why do I need to forgive you? You're the one who should forgive me, for keeping this from you," she sobbed into his chest, her hands coming up to grasp his shirt.

"I should have looked after you better. I shouldn't have believed him time after time as to why you never came out to hang with us. I should have..."

Hermione straightened out quickly, giving him a very stern look.

"Harry James Potter, don't you _dare_ take the blame for this!"

His lips tightened and he averted his gaze, making it obvious that he did indeed feel responsible.

"No, Harry! This is not your fault! I was the one who kept you in the dark, to spare you my troubles. You are not allowed to feel that there was something you could have done without me telling you that something was wrong in the first place!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he suddenly wondered, his voice raw with emotion.

This time it was Hermione's turn to look away.

"I... didn't want to bother you when you were so busy with your training," she said quietly.

She felt Harry's hand on her arm.

"Really, Hermione? That was the reason?"

Lifting her gaze to meet his green eyes, she saw how miserable he was. Maybe he was already suspecting that she had been worried that he wouldn't take her side.

"That was... part of the reason," she replied, "but I was also scared that..."

She closed her mouth, too ashamed to continue.

"... I would side with Ron," Harry finished for her.

He looked sad and miserable and angry at the same time. Shaking his head, he slid down from the couch to the floor, now sitting on his knees in between her legs. He took her hands in his own.

"Hermione... How could you think that? You're the closest thing I have to family."

His voice trembled when he spoke, new tears forming in his eyes. Hermione leaned forward to rest her head against his forehead.

"I don't know," she whispered. "Ron had me convinced that you would. He put me through so much, Harry, and yet he made me believe that if I ever told anyone about this, I would be left alone. I'm so sorry."

They sat like that for a long time, neither of them speaking. After a while, Harry summoned a pillow to sit on and allowed his head slid down to her lap, his arms around her tiny waist. Hermione stroke his hair and just looked at him, so grateful that he was there with her. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it – they were just two best friends, seeking comfort from each other after the huge betrayal from the last person that made their circle of friendship complete. So much would change from now on. Hermione had yet to tell him about her magic, but she didn't want him to get riled up quite yet. She was enjoying this moment with her best friend far too much to have something ruin the moment.

However, sometimes other people manages to mess up special moments for you. There was a knock on the door, and Hermione instinctively knew that it was Snape.

"Come in," she said and the door opened.

And true enough, Snape entered to find the friends cuddled together in a heap on the floor and the couch. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scene before his eyes. He had never seen anything so... innocently intimate before. He just stared at them for a moment, too startled and too unwilling to break them apart to say anything. But after a while he couldn't stand it anymore and all he had to do to ruin the moment completely was clearing his throat slightly. Harry's head snapped up from Hermione's lap.

"Mr Potter," Snape drawled in greeting, his head slightly bowed.

"Professor Snape," Harry said while getting to his feet.

Snape's eyes turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, do you have any idea how long you have been away from the potion you spent three hours making?" he said slowly, giving her a pointed look.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped. It was almost one thirty!

"Oh no!" she gasped, realizing that it should have been bottled thirty minutes ago. "Sir, I'm so sorry! Was it completely ruined?"

Snape folded his arms across his chest.

"No. I decided to stay until you returned. I bottled it and then decided to... investigate what had happened to you."

He gave her a piercing look.

"I suppose I can conclude from the way you were holding each other, that Mr Potter will not be siding with Mr Weasley?"

Her cheeks reddened a bit, but she nodded.

"And have you told him _everything_, Miss Granger?"

Harry was looking back and forth between them. His heart sank. There was more?

"Everything but the... big thing, Professor."

"The big thing?" Harry repeated, his eyes locked on Hermione.

He didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit. And the fact that Hermione was refusing to look at him made him feel slightly nauseous. It had to bad. Really, really bad.

"What is worse than what you've already told me, Hermione?" he felt compelled to ask when she didn't say anything.

Hermione took a deep breath and glanced at Snape. He tilted his head, wondering what meaning there could be in the look she was giving him.

"Would you like me leave, Miss Granger?" he asked quietly.

"No, sir, on the contrary," she answered slowly. "It's very possible that I will need your help to calm him down afterwards."

She saw realization dawn on him and then how his hand discreetly went into his pocket, his fingers most likely closing around his wand. Since the end of the war, Harry had become more powerful than ever. It was as if the fragment of Voldemorts soul in Harry's own had been holding him back, or more precise, holding his magic, back. Wandless magic and non-verbal spells had starting coming naturally to Harry a few months after the end, and he had been forced to learn a better way of controlling the newfound power now residing within him. This meant, on the rare occasions when something happened to upset Harry, he would lose control almost instantly.

"What is going on, Hermione? What could possibly be so bad that you can't tell me without him here?" he demanded, sliding his glasses up on his head so that he could wipe them free from tears.

Hermione stood up herself to be more at eye level with him.

"I need him here because I can't do any magic myself. And remember your promise not to do anything rash, Harry."

"Hermione, if you don't tell me right _now_, I might not be able to hold you to that," he said through gritted teeth. "So help me..."

"Fine, fine, I will tell you," Hermione hurried to say and then she took a deep breath. "Because of what has happened with Ron, I can't... I can't control my magic."

And without further ado, everything made out of glass in the room shattered – the window, the picture frames, the decanter full of brandy and the matching glasses over by the fireplace all shattered into a million pieces at the same time. Even Harry's glasses, still on top of his head, shattered. Hermione shrieked and Snape flinched, both of them covering their faces as the glass came flying from everywhere. Harry seemed oblivious to what just had happened. The next moment, the room started shaking. Snape, knowing full well that there was no earthquake nor anything remotely natural going on, didn't hesitate to draw out his wand.

"MISTER POTTER! CALM YOURSELF!" Snape bellowed to be heard over the noise, his wand pointed directly at Harry.

Harry didn't react, so Snape did the only thing he could do – he stunned the boy. At the same moment that Harry crumbled to the floor, the room was still again. Hermione's eyes were wide in horror. Snape took no satisfaction in seeing Harry Potter in a pile on the floor, but he hadn't had any other choice.

"I hope you understand now that Mr Potter is fully on your side, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded slowly, feeling quite overwhelmed. Snape bent down over Harry and muttered "_enervate_" under his breath. Harry blinked, looking quite confused. Then he sat up, his eyes finding Hermione's.

"Give me a reason for why I shouldn't go straight to him and kill him on the spot," he pleaded, his eyes blazing with emotion. "Please. I need a very good reason not to do it."

Hermione held out her hands and Harry took them without hesitation.

"Because I need you, Harry, and I don't think that even you would be allowed to kill someone without ending up in Azkaban," she said as gave him a tiny smile. "I need you to be with me and not rotting away in that awful place."

She pulled him up to the couch, wishing that she could fix his glasses for him.

"Now, the whole reason I am telling you all this, at this time, is because McGonagall announced to the students this morning that I am here as an apprentice. Knowing how the wizarding world works, it will probably be in the Daily Prophet by tomorrow. I couldn't have you find out that way."

"In what subject?" Harry asked, taking his glasses down from his head and muttered "_reparo_".

"Well, in potions, but I'm not really here for that. Professor Snape is going to help me gain control of my magic again. The apprenticeship is just a cover."

Harry turned to Snape, who was currently mending everything in the room that Harry had managed to break in a mere second.

"And what do you get out of it?" he demanded, perhaps sounding harsher than he had meant to.

Snape straightened out and gave the younger man a cold look.

"Absolutely nothing, Mr Potter," he sneered in return. "Seeing as Legilimency is needed for Miss Granger's predicament to be resolved, I am the only capable teacher within this school to help her."

Hermione felt a chill go through her at the mentioning of Legilimency, remembering how Harry had described the invasion in his own mind, but she wasn't too surprised that it was a required element for her rehabilitation. She patted Harry's hand to get his attention.

"I will be brewing potions for the Madame Pomfrey during the days," she told him when his gaze was once more on her.

Harry's eyes snapped back to Snape.

"Isn't that your job?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

Snape folded his arms across his chest and opened his mouth to retort.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed in frustration before Snape got a chance to say anything. "It _is_ his job, but seeing as his evenings will be spent helping me, it's only fair that I brew some of these potions. Stop badgering him, Harry. Professor Snape is being very kind to help me through this."

Harry's mouth formed into a silent "oh" and then he looked at Snape sheepishly.

"Sorry," he muttered, but he meant it, and then added "Sir" when he saw that Snape's mouth was thinning into a line.

"Do try to be careful, Potter. The next time you lose your temper, I may not be there to, ah... _help_ you," Snape said mockingly.

Harry's cheeks flushed in anger, but he didn't take the bait. Snape turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, seeing as you have had a... rough day, perhaps it is best that we cancel all further activities until tomorrow. I will see you in the lab no later than eight tomorrow morning."

With that, Snape spun around and marched out the door.

"But..," Hermione started to say, but the Potion Master did not appear to have heard her.

She stared after him, wondering if he had been sarcastic about his comment of her "rough day", and in that case was patronizing her by canceling tonight's session, or if he had actually registered the emotional roller coaster she was on and canceled the session purely because he was being nice. Hermione hoped it was the latter. A nice Severus Snape was something new to get used to, but all the same, not unwelcome. She had always admired the Potion Master, not only for his very important role in the war, but for his obvious intellect. Sure, he had been cold and mean to everyone during the years she had known him, but she was quite certain that this was because of the act he had put on for so many years while he had been a spy. She shook her head to try to clear her mind's turmoil. Turning her attention back to Harry, she could hear him muttering something about someone being an asshole.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" she snapped and he shut his mouth immediately, looking a bit startled. "It's not like you were being any nicer to him, Harry."

Harry just shrugged his shoulder, looking slightly ashamed, but not too much.

"You've been here a long time now, Harry," Hermione mused, looking again at the clock. "Won't they miss you at school?"

"Well, I'm sure they're all out searching for me," he answered as he sat down on the couch again. "I've never missed a single class, so I'm sure they're worried."

Hermione let out a little gasp.

"But then you must go back!" she insisted.

Harry just rolled his eyes and patted the couch to show her that she should sit down.

"Relax, Hermione. I'm joking. Now come over here."

She shot him an annoyed glare. He was smiling as if he hadn't just sent her heart plummeting to... Merlin only knows where.

"Prat," she muttered and then marched over to the couch, sitting down with a scowl and pout on her face, her arms folded across her chest.

Harry laughed and then laced his fingers with hers.

"You're adorable when you pout like that," he said and then smiled.

The way he was talking to her should make her feel a bit weirded out. If she didn't know for a fact that he was madly in love with Ginny Weasley, she would have thought that Harry was flirting with her. The thing was though, that this was exactly how he had been towards her since the end of the war. When the pressure was off him, when he had killed Voldemort, that was when Harry was released of the heavy burden of being the Wizarding world's hero and with it the boy-who-lived was free to feel nothing but happy, content and that life was finally worth living. This was when the true Harry had surfaced. No more dark clouds hanging over his head. No more reasons to not simply love life and live it to the fullest.

But as Harry had gotten happier and happier for each day, Ron had gotten more sour and more cold and distant. The Wizarding world was finally free from the madman who had terrorized it for thirty years – why was it that he seemed happier during the days of Voldemorts reign? Well, it probably didn't have much to do with Voldemort at all. It was just that after the war, two thirds of the Golden Trio had flourished, while the other third had just... not. Harry had been branded as the hero he was, receiving an Order of Merlin, First Class, and then had gone on to be an Auror. Hermione, as well as Ron, had both received an Order of Merlin, Second Class, as Harry had hurried to inform the society that he had never vanquished the Dark Lord had he not had the help of his two best friends. Hermione got even more famous when she became the highest scoring graduate Hogwarts had seen since Tom Riddle, while Ron... Ron had not returned to Hogwarts, but taken the necessary tests and exams to apply to the Auror Academy with Harry. He had not passed enough of them for the Academy to accept him, so instead he had taken a job at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Hermione!"

The sound of Harry's holler pulled her out of her thoughts. She gave him a blank look.

"There's not need to shout," she scolded him and then waited for him for continue.

Harry rolled his eyes and squeezed her hands.

"Obviously there was since I had repeat your name twenty times before you reacted," he said softly. "What on earth where you thinking about?"

Hermione thought his question over for a second, seeing as she wasn't quite sure what she had been thinking about. Everything that had flashed through her mind had been a messy blur.

"Just thinking back on the first period after Voldemort was destroyed," she answered slowly, staring off out in to space. "Trying to pinpoint when everything went so horribly wrong."

Harry's grip on her hands tightened.

"I don't know what I'm going to do when I see him, Hermione," he said, his expression serious and tense. "I can't promise you that I won't hurt him."

"Then you mustn't see him, Harry," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "This is bigger than just the Golden Trio. Think about how it will affect Ginny and the entire Weasley clan when they find out what has happened. If I choose to, I can make sure he goes to Azkaban, but will they ever forgive me for sending their brother and son off to prison? And will it affect your relationship with them when they find out that you're on my side?"

Harry just looked at her for a long time.

"I don't care, Hermione," he said finally. "I don't care what the Weasley's will think. If they take Ron's side, then perhaps they're not the people we thought they were. We might feel as if we're apart of that family, but when it really comes down to it, we're not. Not really. And that's why I've always thought that you and I have our own family. You're the sister I never had, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes blurred with tears. Oh, what a fool she had been to ever doubt him!

"You're the brother I never had, Harry," she whispered, too choked up to speak any louder.

They looked at each other for a moment and then Hermione threw herself in his arms.

"Oh, Harry, I love you!"

Harry chuckled and stroke her hair.

"I love you too, Hermione," he said affectionately and then pulled back from her, glancing at the clock. "I really must be going."

He saw her tense and he felt his heart squeeze in sympathy.

"You're afraid he's going to show up?" he wondered.

Hermione nodded jerkily.

"Terrified."

Harry tilted his head.

"He can't touch you here, Hermione. The professors would never allow it. And you seem to be living very close to Snape, in the dungeons – Ron would never think to look for you here."

Hermione didn't say anything. Harry sighed and pulled her into his chest.

"I'll take a day off tomorrow," he said suddenly and he tightened his grip when he felt her start. "I'll serve as your personal bodyguard."

"Harry, no!" Hermione gasped and then she was finally let lose.

"Hermione, if it helps you relax, there's nothing you can do to stop me. Family, remember?" he said as he pointed his finger back and forth between them.

Then he kissed the top of her head, gave her smile and took off through the floo before she could forbid him to not come. Hermione stared after him for a long time, feeling happy and terrified at the same time. Harry wasn't abandoning her. He was going to do everything in his power to help her. She felt loved for the first time in a very long, long time. It really was a wonderful feeling.


	6. To tell or not to tell the Weasley's

Chapter Five

To tell or not to tell the Weasley's

Hermione stared at the reflection the mirror was showing her. It was hard to imagine that just three days ago she had been covered in bruises and a chunk of hair had been missing from her scalp. Only three days ago she had been scared every minute of the day and since then she had had daily moments where she hadn't felt frightened at all. Hogwarts had become her sanctuary. She prayed that she would continue to feel that way after this day, being quite certain that Ron would show up. She hoped he wouldn't, but his quick, raging temper might force him to come.

She took a long, deep breath before she tore her gaze from the mirror and went to the fireplace, calling Harry. A minute later, the boy-who-lived stepped through the floo and after he had disappeared under the invisibility cloak, they took off towards the Great Hall together. Once there, Hermione had no idea where Harry was, but she was sure that he was somewhere close by. Her eyes darted around the Hall, searching for anything that might indicate that something was amiss. She noticed that many of the students were watching her as she made her way towards the staff table, but she didn't pay much attention to it. Looking ahead, she saw that Snape wasn't there yet (or perhaps he had already eaten), but Hagrid caught her eye and waved at her. Hermione smiled warmly and winked at him.

Sitting down to have some toast and a cup of hot tea before running off to the potions lab, she put a napkin on her lap and then buttered a piece of toast. From the corner of her eye she saw that there was a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on the table where Snape should be sitting. The headline immediately caught her attention:

**HERMIONE GRANGER APPRENTICE OF SEVERUS SNAPE!**

She frowned and then hurriedly unfolded the paper, quickly reading the short article.

_ The students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry received some rather shocking news yesterday whilst eating their breakfast. Hermione Granger, the highest scoring Hogwarts graduate since 1945 and Harry Potter's right hand in the war, is returning to the school to begin an apprenticeship with Potions Master Severus Snape. Miss Granger has been out of the public eye for quite some time, several months in fact, so it is most surprising to hear that she quite suddenly appears at this prestigious post. _

_ Severus Snape, former Death Eater, turned spy, has never before taken on an apprentice. One might wonder why he seems fit to do so now. Is it simply because no one before Hermione Granger, during all his years a Hogwarts' Potions Master, has been accomplished enough, or is there another reason behind this sudden news? _

_ Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger's long-time boyfriend, seemed taken aback when asked for his comments on Miss Granger's new post at Hogwarts. (This reporter notices a look of surprise before his expression turns blank.) "She always did as she pleased," is the only comment he gives before he shuts the door in this reporters face. Curious thing to say if two people are happily in love. Perhaps there is more than just potions brewing between Hermione Granger and Severus Snape in the Potions lab at Hogwarts._

"Oh, for the love of... Who wrote this crap?" Hermione muttered to herself.

"Rita Skeeter, of course."

Hermione jumped at the sound of Snape's voice only inches from her ear. She folded the Daily Prophet in half and then turned to glare at Snape, who was now sitting in his seat next to her. Her eyes narrowed when she saw that he almost looked pleased. If it was for the article or for making her jump, she didn't know.

"Must you creep up on me in such ways?" she wondered as she nibbled on her toast.

"Of course I must," he said, smirking as he filled his cup with tea. "I always get such satisfying reactions."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. He was teasing her – surly Professor Snape was _teasing_ her! Had the world gone crazy this morning? Suddenly she saw his mood shift, but he wasn't looking at her.

"Miss Granger, what is Mr Potter doing here?" he asked quietly.

_What?_ Hermione thought, quite perplexed. How did he know that Harry was here? He was under his clock, for Merlin's sake! Her eyes snapped to where Snape was looking, and she didn't know whether to laugh or to think that Harry was a bigger idiot than she sometimes gave him credit for. At the end of the Hufflepuff table, there was the tip a of shoe, floating in mid air. Harry must be sitting with his legs crossed, and wasn't aware that the his foot had dragged up the clock up a bit. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Snape pulled his wand out and a second later Harry's shoe disappeared.

"What did you do?" she wondered, genuinely curious.

"I sent a small stinging hex at him, so he would realize that not all of him was covered," he drawled, sounding bored.

"Idiot," she muttered under her breath with a small smile playing on her lips and then she rolled her eyes.

She could swear she saw Snape's mouth twitch, as if he was about to smile.

"You will never hear me contradict that fact, Miss Granger. Now tell me, what is he doing here?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, biting her lip. Snape gave her a searching look when she didn't answer him.

"Do not make me repeat myself a third time, Miss Granger," he snapped, feeling immensely annoyed at how this woman continuously irked him so.

"Harry is here because he saw that I was frightened that Ron would show up," she said quietly, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "I didn't ask him to come here, but I am glad he did."

She took a sip of her tea and then turned her head slightly to look at him. His expression was cold.

"Do you believe the Professors of this school are incapable of protecting you from a mere boy?" he hissed quietly, his eyes slightly narrowed.

Hermione's eye widened. He sounded almost offended – like he thought that she considered _him_ to be incapable of protecting her. But surely she was imagining this. Why would Snape be offended over such a thing?

"Of course not, sir," she replied rapidly, not wanting to affront him any further, "but you know how Harry is. Once he sets his mind to something, he won't willingly change course. He's here for the day."

"Oh, joy," Snape sneered and quickly began eating a small breakfast of toast and marmalade.

As Hermione and Snape were finishing their breakfast, a mass of owls appeared, delivering this day's mail. They were both astounded to see that two different owls dropped off letters for Hermione – one of them Hermione recognized immediately.

"Errol...," she whispered, wondering if this letter came from the entire Weasley clan or just from Molly.

She didn't see that Snape was watching her intently as she opened the letter, her fingers shaking slightly. The letter wasn't long, but it was written in Molly Weasley's loopy handwriting.

_Hermione –_

_I was most surprised to read about your apprenticeship in the Daily Prophet just now, wondering why none of us had been informed about this huge transition in your life – even Ron seemed to be shocked! I suppose a congratulations is in order, but I am saddened that you haven't told any of us and also a bit confused. It makes me wonder if there is any truth in what Rita Skeeter writes, something I first considered to be absolute nonsense. Ron's reaction (he seemed quite upset and I don't approve off that you have hurt my youngest son in order to take this post) only makes it more of an enigma. If you find time in your new busy schedule, please come by the Burrow to clear up all misconceptions. _

– _Molly_

Hermione was visibly shaking by the time she had read through the entire letter. So Molly thought that she had been mean to her youngest son. If she only knew the whole story... She felt a smooth hand cover her wrist and she jumped slightly at the contact. Her eyes locked with the black eyes of the Potion Master, who looked slightly... worried. He took the letter from her and read through it while Hermione opened the second letter. This one was from Ginny, she recognized the cursive penmanship.

_Hermione,_

_what the hell? Sorry for beginning a letter like that, but that really is the first thing that comes to mind – different variations of that question. What the hell are you doing at Hogwarts? What the hell were you thinking when you took this post and didn't even consult Ron first? I just came from your flat and Ron is devastated that you haven't said a word to him! I can't understand it – you're supposed to be one of the good girls, one of those who can never ever hurt the person they're with. I'm so disappointed in the way you've handled this. I would have sent you a Howler if I knew how to place the charm on the letter, but maybe Harry can help me with that next time I see him – I'm sure he won't condone your behavior either. You must see Ron before it's too late – wait too long and he won't want to take you back._

_Ginny_

Hermione was so close to hyperventilating that she at first didn't notice when Snape leaned closer to her.

"Remember that there are people watching you," he said so quietly she almost missed it. "You must try to control your emotions long enough to get away from the prying eyes of curious students."

She understood what he was saying, but it was still easier said and done to suppress the great urge of sobbing. She stood from the chair and then glanced around, looking almost confused. Snape was still watching her and then look she was giving him now, her eyes teary and desperate, could only mean one thing – she wanted him to follow. She grabbed the letters and then they left the Great Hall in a hurry. Hermione suddenly remembered Harry and wanted to stop to make sure that he had seen them take off, but Snape put his hand on the small of her back to urge her on. For a moment, his simple, gentle touch was all she could think of. It was as if his hand was burning a hole straight through her robes.

"He is following," was all he said and then withdrew his hand – she missed his touch instantly.

How was it possible that he managed to read her so correctly every time? He led her to his office and then left the door open for Harry. Hermione sat down in one of the comfy chairs by the fireplace and then read the letters again, tearing up immediately know that she was free to be emotional.

"Who are the letters from?" Harry murmured to Snape.

"The first was from Molly Weasley," Snape answered, his gaze on Hermione. "The second I believe is from Miss Weasley."

Harry sat down on the chair next to Hermione and held out his hand for the letters. Hermione gave them to him and put her hand over her mouth as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Harry read them quickly and then shocked both his best friend and the Potions Master by cursing loudly.

"Why must she always feel the need to bring me in to stuff?" he growled and then chucked the letter away from him. "I think we should just tell them now, right away, so they'll know what a bloody prat Ron is."

Snape snorted slightly, causing both Harry and Hermione to turn and look at him.

"Mr Weasley has done far too much to deserve such a mild title. Wouldn't you agree that a term such as 'beast', 'monster' or perhaps even 'demon' would be better to describe him?"

Harry's jaw dropped and he just stared at his former professor. Snape was looking right back at him with a dead serious look. Only Hermione saw the corner of his mouth twitch, as if he was fighting a smile. Actually, since it was Snape, he was most likely fighting the urge to smirk. Harry tore his gaze away from Snape to give Hermione an incredulous look.

"Is he... joking?" Harry asked her uncertainly.

Hermione suddenly burst out laughing.

"Yes!" she managed to choke out in between laughs and then continued on like this for quite some time.

Harry and Snape shared an amused glance and then the younger man took a step towards the Potions Master. Harry gave him a searching look.

"Was this your intent?" he wondered and looked over his shoulder at Hermione who was still laughing.

Snape didn't answer, but gave him a curt nod. Harry didn't quite know what to think of the man he knew as surly and grumpy. That same person was now making jokes to make someone else, the insufferable know-it-all of all people, feel better. He watched as Snape took the seat next to Hermione.

"Enough now, Miss Granger, or Mr Potter here will think I am much more of a comedian than I really am. It would ruin my reputation as the 'greasy Potions Master'."

This clearly was the wrong thing to say. Hermione burst out in a second wave of giggles and he even heard Harry start chuckling behind him. Snape sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I am surrounded by imbeciles," he grumbled and then waited patiently for them to get over it.

"Oh, thank you. I needed that," Hermione said as she wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. "Now, where were we?"

"I think we should tell the Weasley's," Harry said straight to the point, coming around the chairs to stand with his back against the fire.

"And I don't," Snape drawled in return.

Harry gave him a scathing look.

"Why ever not? He should be brought to justice and not be allowed to roam in the Wizarding society any longer than necessary," he argued and looked at Hermione to see if she agreed.

Hermione's expression was unreadable. The good humor she'd just been in was gone, her mind now focused solely on the troubles that lay behind her and those that still were ahead of her.

"Be as that may, Mr Potter, the only evidence in Miss Granger's case are her memories. As I'm sure you remember, memories can be tampered with," Snape said and then paused to let the information sink in.

Harry remembered very well that memories indeed easily could be tampered with. But when it came to Horace Slughorn, it was so obvious that that memory had been fake. Who in their right mind would believe that Hermione's memories were fake? Snape continued;

"Since memories are not always to be trusted, the Wizengamot never only allows them as evidence anymore. And since there are no other witnesses..."

"But I'm not talking about bringing him before the Wizengamot right now, I'm merely saying we should tell the Weasley's," Harry countered, not at all liking what Snape was saying – it sounded like he was implying that they needed to catch Ron in the act...

Hermione still didn't say anything. She was just looking back and forth between the two.

"And how do you think the Weasley's will react, Mr Potter? Are you so thick that you believe that they will blindly take Miss Granger's word? No, they love and trust their son and brother too much for that. Unless you have some kind of real proof, telling the Weasley's will be fruitless!"

Harry growled in frustration, knowing too well that Snape was right.

"What are you suggesting then, Snape? That we let her go back to Ron, and wait under my invisibility clock until he starts his frantic rampage, so that we can catch him in the act of him hurting her?"

He saw Hermione wince out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his angry glare fixed on Snape, who looked entirely too calm for Harry's liking.

"Well, I would never put it quite like that, Mr Potter, but something like that, yes. We need hard evidence that Mr Weasley's character is not as stable and agreeable as everyone else seem to think."

"I will not consent to anything that puts Hermione in danger! She's defenseless against him!"

Hermione was quite stunned that Harry was speaking to Snape in this manner – he was even raising his voice to their most feared teacher, something she would never even dream of doing.

"Indeed she is, but she will not be alone, will she, Mr Potter? You and I will both be present. She will never come to harms way."

"And what if something goes wrong? What if he... or if we're forced to..."

Harry was unable to finish his sentences and the Potions Master rolled his eyes at him.

"Your eloquence always did baffle me, Mr Potter," he sneered and then continued briskly before Harry had a chance to retort, ignoring the younger man's glare. "I assume you are worried that Mr Weasley will harm her more seriously than he already has and that we are forced to harm him in return?"

Harry just nodded, too angry to open his mouth to speak at the moment. The office was quite for a moment – the only thing heard was the soft crackling of the fire.

"I don't want to hurt him," Harry finally said, looking at his hands as he spoke, "and I'm worried that if I were to engage him in a fight that I would lose control and kill him."

Snape huffed a little, which made Harry's gaze snap up to him.

"You wouldn't get the chance to battle him, Mr Potter. I will stun him before anything were to happen."

This didn't comfort Harry – he still didn't want Hermione in that position. He threw her a desperate look, asking for help to get the Potions Master to understand. Hermione gave him a pleading look and Harry's heart fell.

"Harry, I agree with Professor Snape," she said with a small voice. "There's no other way."

"There's _got_ to be another way!" he bellowed, twirling around to punch the wall behind him. "OW!"

Hermione sprung to her feet and rushed forward to her best friend. She took a firm hold around his wrist and immediately saw that his knuckles were bleeding.

"Harry, why on earth would you do such a thing?" she demanded, feeling more annoyed that he had hurt himself than angry that he had behaved in such a way.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I just don't you anywhere near him. It hurts so much, knowing what he's done to you. I don't want it to happen again, even if I'm with you in the same room."

Hermione stroke a strand of messy hair away from his face.

"I know, Harry. But there really is no other way."

She felt a tap on her shoulder and saw that Snape stood right behind her with his wand out.

"Move out of the way, Miss Granger, so I can heal the wounds before he starts bleeding on my carpet."

Once Harry's wounds had been sealed back together, they sat down again to talk, and this time Hermione demanded that they do so in a civilized manner – no more shouting. Her nerves simply couldn't bare it.

"I think we should wait as longs as possible to tell the Weasley's, Harry," Hermione started, "because the more time that passes, the more time Professor Snape has to help me with my magic. And sooner or later, I will need to confront Ron, in one way or the other."

"Fine," Harry said in resigned way, too tired to try to get her to change her mind. "But I want to be here with you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"But what about your training, Harry?"

Harry simply shrugged.

"I'll take time off and be here with you," he answered, but he knew she would never allow that.

Hermione just regarded him for a moment, feeling yet again very grateful to have a friend like him.

"Harry, I'm safe here. You said yourself that since my quarters are placed in the dungeons, Professor Snape is close enough to hear if something happens."

Harry turned to look at Potions Master wearily.

"I know you'll do almost anything to make sure I don't stay here indefinitely, but there's really only one thing you have to do."

Snape narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, wondering where the Golden Boy was going with this.

"And what would that be, Mr Potter?" he drawled, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry glanced at Hermione before looking back at Snape.

"Promise me that you'll do everything in your power to protect her," he finally said. "I'm only leaving Hogwarts if it means that I can leave her in your care, in your protection, with a promise that you will do everything you can to keep her safe."

Snape's eyes widened a fraction, so surprised at the boy's request that he was stunned for a moment.

"And you would... trust me to look after her?" he wondered, wanting Harry to confirm it.

"I do, Professor. I trust you with my life and now I'm asking you to look after the person that means the most to me. Can you do that?"

A part of him wanted to refuse, but he felt that it would be impossible for him to do that – no one had ever relied so heavily on him, and it made him feel quite astonished. He knew how much Hermione meant to Harry, had seen it first hand in the intimate embrace they had shared the day before. And yet, he dejectedly wondered if the younger man was trying to trick him somehow. After all, he had tormented the boy for years, and not to forget, who in their right mind would trust Severus Snape with the most precious person in your life? He searched Harry's face for an ulterior motive, but found none. He turned his head slightly to look at Hermione and saw that her mouth was slightly open and he found himself wondering what was going through her mind. Looking back at Harry, he finally nodded slowly and held his hand out to the young man.

"Alright, Mr Potter," Snape said and Harry firmly took his hand. "Although this is not an Unbreakable Vow, I promise you to honor it as such. I give you my word, Mr Potter, that I will do my utmost to make sure that no harm shall come to Miss Granger."

They held fast to the others hand for a moment longer and then they let go simultaneously. Hermione felt relieved, happy and... safe. Ever since she had arrived at Hogwarts, even though it was just three days prior, she had felt safe in the Potions Master's presence from the start and now that feeling grew tenfold. She got up from the chair and promptly flung her arms around the Potions Master.

"Thank you, Professor," she said quietly and as soon as she felt his entire body stiffen, she let him go before he had a chance to push her away.

Snape looked both so shocked and scandalized that Hermione found herself apologizing for her spontaneous behavior, but Snape came to his senses and waved it off. Harry was just amused.

"However, I must ask you, Miss Granger, not to make it a habit."

Hermione's cheeks reddened.

"I won't, sir."

No one spoke for a moment. Then Harry cleared his throat.

"Well then, if everything is settled I'm going to back to the academy. I must admit that the instructor wasn't too pleased that I went missing for two hours yesterday."

Hermione didn't seem surprised.

"Now it's your turn to make me a promise, Harry," she said, almost demanding. "Promise me to not come here unless I call for you. I won't have you miss more of your training just because you're worried when you don't have to be."

Harry looked like he wanted to object, but when Hermione put her hands on her hips, Harry knew she meant business.

"Fine," he grumbled and then turned to Snape. "May I floo out from here?"

Snape just inclined his head and walked over to his desk to get the bag of floo powder he had there, while Hermione and Harry hugged good-bye.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said to Snape, both for the powder and for the promise that had been made and then he flashed Hermione a smile. "I'll be in touch, Hermione."

"Bye, Harry," she said as she smiled in return, waving to him as he disappeared in the green flames.

Then she turned to Snape who had seated himself behind his desk.

"Well this has proved to be an interesting morning," Snape said quietly.

If he spoke to her or to himself, Hermione didn't know. He checked the clock on the wall and got up from the chair with a heavy sigh.

"Time to teach the dunder-headed first years," he grumbled and then met Hermione's gaze. "Will you be able to successfully brew the Strengthening Solution for me today?"

"Of course, sir," Hermione answered with confidence.

Snape nodded and then inclined his head towards her.

"Very good. You know where to find the recipe and the ingredients. I will see you tonight at seven."

He paused and then gave her a serious look.

"I feel I should warn you that we will look at some of your most painful memories with Mr Weasley. Brace yourself."

Snape gave her a half-smile and Hermione flashed him a smile, but after he left Hermione's insides instantly turned ice cold.


	7. Three painful memories

AN: Sorry it's been so long since I've posted anything – I've been crazy busy with school. I'll do my absolute best to be better in the future, so please stay with this story. There's lots of drama yet to come!

Chapter Six

Three painful memories

Hermione sat in one of the chairs in front of the fire in Snape's office. She was so nervous and her pulse was beating so wildly that she imagined that Snape could her the pumping of her treacherous heart through the stone walls that separated the office from his storage room. Just the thought of Snape poking through her mind with Legilimency to look at some of her most private memories with Ron was enough to send her stress level through the roof. But she knew that it was necessary. This was something that had to be done. She had to confront her fears, and in order for Snape to help her, he had to know what had happened so that he knew what he was dealing with.

She heard Snape coming out of the storage room and when he sat down in the chair next to her she wanted to get up and run. She didn't want to relive those memories. As if he knew what she was thinking, Snape suddenly said:

"Must I restrain you to that chair, Miss Granger, or will you stay seated on your own?"

Hermione just gave him a sour look. Honestly, like she was going to take off running just because she was a bit nervous about her mind being assaulted.

"Very well then," Snape said and then gave her a penetrating gaze. "What has Mr Potter told you of his Occlumency lessons?"

"Um, not very much. He just said he didn't like it, that it felt like you were trying to pry open his mind with a screwdriver and that you were using the lessons as a way of torturing him."

Snape looked at her in a way she couldn't quite decipher.

"Sorry about my bluntness, sir," she offered, thinking that perhaps he had reacted to her straightforwardness.

He shook his head and waved her apology away.

"No, no, there's no need to apologize for stating the truth. I can understand why Mr Potter felt like I was abusing him during those lessons. I was not as... gentle with him as I could have been," he admitted and then got to his feet to readjust his chair – he needed to be right in front of Hermione to cause her as little discomfort as possible. "That will not be the case here, Miss Granger. I will be gentle and when you feel the need for a pause, I will break the connection immediately."

He tilted his head as he watched her. She was not as tense as she had been a minute ago, he could tell.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly.

Hermione took a deep breath and then another. She looked down at her hands as she tried to still her anxiety. Then she met the Potions Master's gaze and nodded.

"_Legilimens_," Snape whispered carefully.

The next second both of them screamed in pain as a shining white light erupted in their minds. The connection was broken a second later. Hermione was on her side on the floor, rolled up like a ball and she was panting madly, her eyes tightly shut to block out any kind of light. Snape was still in his chair, his eyes were also closed and his mouth agape in shock. What on earth had happened?

"Miss Granger?" he called, slowly opening his eyes. "Miss Granger, are you alright?"

She whimpered, but answered "yes" in a shaky whisper. He got down on his knees to help her back up into the chair. He noticed that her eyes were still shut.

"Open your eyes, Miss Granger. The white light is gone."

"No... No, it isn't. I can still see it. It feels like my head is burning. It's so bright that it makes looking at the sun bearable. It's so bright that it makes me long for everlasting darkness."

Snape frowned, not liking the sound of the scenario she described. He didn't understand at all what was going on with her or what had happened to cause him so much pain as well, and he didn't like it one bit. He grabbed her arms gently and steered her back to the chair, where she immediately buried her face into the soft fabric, a low moan escaping her lips. Whatever it was that he had seen, it was evident that the light was causing Hermione much more harm. He had to end this, _now_. Thinking fast, he quickly calculated what was different between Hermione and all the others he had cast _Legilimens _on. There was one major factor that caught his attention right away – the witch in front of him had damaged her magical core.

Was Legilimency somehow disrupting her core even more?

That didn't make sense to him, but it was the only logical reason for why this had happened. So without further ado, he quickly made up his mind about what to do next.

"Miss Granger, I need you to concentrate on ending this pain and by doing that you need to say the words '_Finite Incantatem_'. However, you should not say them out loud – you need to say them inside your head, speaking explicitly to your magical core. If nothing happens, say it again and again until the light starts fading."

Hermione whimpered again, but nodded slowly – her eyes were still tightly shut. Snape could see that this was working. She was slowly becoming less tense and after a few minutes she carefully opened her eyes. She looked confused and exhausted.

"What _was_ that?" she wondered, and she winced when she heard how weak her voice was.

Snape gave her a look that was almost apologetic.

"If I knew that, it never would have happened in the first place. The only possible explanation I can find is the state of your magical core. We will not be trying that again."

Hermione frowned as she thought his words over.

"What will we do instead of that spell then, Professor? Don't you need to see the memories?"

He turned around in his seat and looked gravely at something in the other side of the room. Hermione followed his gaze and her eyes landed on the Pensieve sitting on the corner of his desk. They looked at each for a moment, Snape giving her calculating fierce look, while Hermione immediately got nervous.

"I don't suppose I have a choice?" she asked.

Snape shook his head slowly.

"It is truly the only way."

Hermione sighed, but then she toughened up. It was her memories – surely it couldn't be worse watching them like she was watching a movie, right?

"Fine. What must I do?"

"_You_ will do nothing but sit back and relax – you will focus on the first couple of months where everything went wrong with Mr Weasley, and I will get three relevant memories out of your head."

During his speech, Snape had whipped out his wand and produced three glass vials out of thin air. Hermione in the mean time frowned as his words settled in her mind.

"Is that the way it works? I concentrate loosely on a time time period and you find three _relevant _memories?"

Snape smirked at her – even now she couldn't restrain herself from asking question, to seek knowledge so that she could learn more.

"That is the way it works if the person performing the spell know what he is doing."

"And you know what you are doing... Sir?"

Snape almost looked insulted. His eyes narrowed a fraction and looked ready to bite her head off.

"Of course. Now sit back and do as I instructed."

Hermione sighed, but did however settle comfortably in the chair. She closed her eyes, feeling that this would help her concentrate and then she searched her memory for the time when the Ron she had loved had turned into the Ron she now feared. She heard the Potions Master murmur something and the next moment her temple prickle three times before Snape said that they were done. She looked at the vials and saw that they were filled with some kind of silvery substance.

"Now what?" she wondered, sounding quite apprehensive.

Snape got to his feet and gave her a piercing look.

"Now we watch them, Miss Granger. It is that simple."

She followed him to the shallow stone basin, feeling quite astonished that she was so calm. However, as soon as Snape started pouring the first silvery substance into the basin, her calm was exchanged with a swift feeling of pure panic.

"Miss Granger, I will use force in order to get you watch this if I must – I would prefer if that didn't occur, but this is something we _will_ do together. You must confront your fear while I search for clues. Understood?"

Hermione's eyes were wide with surprise and fear. Snape sighed.

"You must remember that we are dealing with memories and that you cannot be harmed. If nothing else, remember that I will be right there with you and I will not let anything happen to you."

His voice was soft and he spoke quietly, as if he was trying to comfort a child – even if Hermione no longer was a child, she did feel comforted and as she took a deep breath, she gave him a trusting glance.

"After you, Miss Granger."

She leaned in over the Pensieve and a moment later she felt herself being transported out of Snape's office into something much more like a dream.

(AN: If longer passages are written in italics, then it's something that Severus and Hermione are doing or thinking, and is not connected to the memory.)

Hermione had cooked a nice meal and was currently setting the table. She had taken out candles and had uncorked a bottle of wine. After glancing at the clock on the wall she hurried out to kitchen and took out a tray of freshly baked bread from the oven. At the same moment, Ron opened the door and entered with a smile on his face.

"Hermione, have you been cooking?" he called as he put down a training bag on the floor. "I don't think so – it smells much too good for this meal being your doing."

"Oh, do shut up, you prat," Hermione said affectionately as she came out to the hall and pecked his cheek. "I've followed the instructions in the recipe for your mother's minced pies like I was making a potion. They should be delicious."

Ron smiled and Hermione led him to his seat at the small two-people table. He sat down, Hermione poured him some wine and then she went to the kitchen to get the pies and the bread. When she came back and served him food, he suddenly said;

"This is great, Hermione. There's nothing better than coming home to a home cooked meal. It should always be like this."

Hermione sighed as she sat down.

"I've told you before, I will not stay in the house like your mum."

"What's wrong with my mum?" he demanded, pausing his intense chewing..

Hermione rolled her eyes as she started cutting up her pie.

"There's nothing wrong with your mum, Ron, and that is not what I said – all I said was that I don't want to be a housewife, like she is."

Ron still hadn't started chewing again.

"And what's wrong with being a housewife?"

"There's nothing wrong with it and you'll never hear me say that there is. I just want more out of life than staying at home with the kids and doing all the cooking and cleaning. I want a career."

Ron started chewing again and simply waved away her comment with his hand.

"A career? Why would you want that? You have me to provide for you. There's no need for you to worry your little head about getting some random job."

Hermione put her fork down and gave him an icy stare.

"You know very well that I want a job. During all my years at Hogwarts I've told both you and Harry about my plans for the future, so don't act like you're surprised in me telling you this!"

"Yeah," Ron scoffed and stuffed his mouth with pie, "but that was before you had a man to take care of you. Besides, you used to talk about working in the Ministry, but you never had a clear view of what you wanted to do."

"You're right about me not knowing what to do then," Hermione offered and Ron looked immensely pleased at that. "And I don't want to work at the Ministry."

Ron helped himself to another pie while Hermione took another bite of her own.

"Great! I'm glad we got that sorted," he said, clearly seeing an end to the discussion. "Now, what do you think we should bring to Luna and Neville's engagement party?"

"What do you mean 'we got that sorted'? I'm not done yet! I said that I don't want to work at the Ministry – that doesn't mean I don't want a career. I want to become a Potions Mistress."

Dead silence. Ron stopped chewing for a second time. Before he could retort, Hermione plowed on:

"So I'm going back to Hogwarts for my final year – I'll need an O in my N.E.W.T exam in Potions and a full diploma to be able to study potions at a higher level."

"No."

Hermione started and gave him a surprised look. She stared at him in wonder.

"I'm sorry, did you just say 'no'?"

"You're not going," Ron said as he glowered at her.

_Hermione cringed, remembering exactly how she had felt that evening. She had questioned Ron's character simply by hearing him say "no", but it had passed later on. He had always made up for the things he said to her afterwards and she had always forgiven him, believing him when he had told her that his temper was a family trait. _

"Who the hell do you think you are, telling me that I'm not going to finish _my_ education? I _am _going, Ron. The sooner you accept that, the better."

Ron threw his knife and fork down on the table.

"I can't afford to live here on my own, Hermione!" he growled and gestured with arms to the flat. "So can you stop being so selfish and stay here?"

"_Excuse me?_ You can't afford to live here alone? Then how the hell do you expect us to survive on one salary so that I can stay home to do the cooking and the cleaning?" she demanded.

Ron looked taken aback for a moment, as he if hadn't thought about that.

"And I don't think I'm the one being selfish here, Ron. You're the one who's trying to dictate my life, telling me that I can't go and finish my schooling and saying that I don't need a career since you have decided that I should become a replica of your mother – but even she has a Hogwarts diploma, Ronald! You cannot keep me from going and if your try, you will wish that you never had met me."

She stormed from the table, but when she suddenly heard him yell "_Stupefy!_" she instinctively dropped to the floor to dodge the stunner. When she reappeared behind the couch she had her wand drawn and pointed at him.

_Hermione looked at Snape, trying to see what he was thinking. His expression was quite passive, but his eyes were slightly widened and his mouth had thinned into a line. _

"Are you bloody out of your mind, Ron? Trying to stun me from _behind_? I think you should sleep at Harry's tonight," she said coldly.

They stared at each other in silence, both of them searing with anger for two very different reasons.

_Hermione felt the scene in front of her change. Suddenly she no longer was standing in the flat she had called home just a few days ago. They were now standing on the grounds of Hogwarts, down by the lake, observing another heated discussion between Ron and Hermione, right after she had graduated._

"Ron, why can't you just to be happy for me? It's not my fault that I became the highest scoring graduate in fifty years!"

Ron's eyes hardened.

"Then who's bloody fault is it, Hermione? You've always been such an over-achiever."

"That's just the way I am, Ron! I like studying, I like to learn new things. It's not my fault that I remember the things I read!"

Ron just shook his head and stared off over the lake. The tranquil calm of the water did not suit the mood between the two.

"Whatever. Now you've got your precious diploma, so now you can just come home and everything will be fine."

"I'm sorry, 'everything will be fine'?" Hermione said as her eyes narrowed. "I'll be going again in the fall to study Advanced Potions Making, remember?"

Ron gave her a hard look and then started rummaging for something in his cloak.

"Yeah, about that. I've found a course like the one you described that is held twice a week, three hours in the middle of the day per session, in Diagon Alley," he said as he waved what was an application in the air. "You can live at home and still have time to take care of the household."

He looked pleased with himself. Hermione looked furious.

"If you had said that you had found this course so that you wouldn't have to be parted from me any longer, I might have considered it, ignoring the fact that taking this course would ensure that I would have to study three times as long as if I went to the one I've already decided on. But since you want me to take this course so that I will have time to 'take care of the household', you can throw that application into the lake."

_Snape tilted his head, intrigued despite himself to see how the imbecile would react to that little speech. _

Ron glared at her and then gave her a calculating look.

"I've already sent the application in – this is just a copy. I knew you'd be difficult about this, so I went ahead and signed you up for it."

Hermione looked speechless.

_Snape's eyes narrowed in disgust. _

"I... you... what?"

Ron just rolled his eyes and started going back up to the castle.

"I'll take your trunk home – I'll see you when you're done with the reporters."

_The image of Hogwarts slowly dissolved._

When they came up from Pensieve, neither Snape nor Hermione spoke for quite some time. It was Hermione that finally broke the silence.

"You must think I'm insane to have stayed with him for so long," she whispered, glancing at her feet as she spoke.

"I am not here to judge you, Miss Granger, I am here to observe these memories in an attempt to help you," Snape said in a reassuring way. "We will not discuss this now. We have two more memories to watch."

Hermione simply nodded and watched as Snape poured the contents of the next vial into the basin. He gave her a nod and then without further ado, they entered the next memory.

_They were back in the flat Hermione had shared with Ron, this time in the bedroom. Hermione looked around, trying to pinpoint what evening they were about to witness. _

Hermione sat in their bed, reading up on the theories of the Wolsfbane Potion. Every now and then she glanced at the clock on the nightstand – it was past midnight and Ron was still not home. As if on cue, she heard him apparate in to the living room. Then she frowned as she heard a second 'pop'.

"Look, Harry, I don't want to talk about it anymore!" she heard Ron yell. "You got in, I didn't, that's not so bloody shocking, now is it? Once again Ronald Weasley has proven to everyone that he is a loser! Just leave me alone!"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she hurried out of bed to stand closer to the door.

"Ron, you know we don't think that!" she heard Harry plead with him. "I know we always talked about going on to become Aurors together, but sometimes things change. Maybe there's something that you're better suited to do than dedicate your life as an Auror."

"Of course there's something else I'm better suited for, since obviously I'm too stupid to make it as an Auror. I'll end up serving under George at the joke shop and I'm sure that will suit me just perfectly. There's no logical thinking, no need to place myself in dangerous situations I'm too dimwitted to get out of and George, of course, will not have me doing anything with the products other than selling them – I'll most likely burn down the place otherwise."

The resentment and the sarcastic tone of his voice did not go unnoticed by Hermione – she moved as if to walk out into the room to comfort him, but the next moment she hesitated.

"Ron, you know I don't think you're too stupid to become an Auror and neither does Hermione. You must understand that. I'm sorry you didn't get in, mate, I really am."

"Yeah, well, I'd probably get sacked after a few weeks later anyway when they notice that I'm no where near as clever as the boy-who-lived."

"Please don't call me that. You of all people should know how much I hate that name."

"Oh, right, sorry, I forgot that we are never allowed to call you things that might make you upset. Fancy having such a problem instead of the minor problem I'm having."

Hermione heard Harry sigh.

"I'm going home. There's no point talking to you at the moment. I'll come by in a few days."

There was a 'pop' and then it sounded as if Ron chucked a vase into the wall. Hermione suddenly decided to go out to him.

_Hermione and Snape followed, after sharing a apprehensive glance. Hermione knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes, and she would rather not see it, but she didn't want Snape to think that she was weak. _

"Ron? Are you alright?"

Ron whirled around, his eyes blazing with anger.

"How long have you been standing there?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

Hermione looked past him and saw that he had indeed broken a vase – the one she had gotten from her grandmother when she graduated. The one that was made out of crystal and was worth almost a thousand pounds. The one that her grandmother had been saving for since the day she was born.

"Ron, do you realize that the vase you just broke is worth two hundred Galleons?"

Ron's eyes widened for a moment and he gave the million shattered pieces a quick glance before he repeated his question.

"I heard you apparate in," she heard, her eyes still on the small pieces of crystal.

"So you heard... everything?"

"Yes."

"And why didn't you come out here instead of standing behind the door eavesdropping?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"I was not eavesdropping – you were practically shouting Harry's head off."

"That's right, take Harry's side, you always do!" Ron hollered suddenly as he charged up to her and grabbed her arms. "You're together with me, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"I didn't say that I was on Harry's side, Ron, I simply said that you shouted at him!" Hermione protested, wincing as he clutched her arms harder when she mentioned Harry's name. "Please let me go, you're hurting me."

Ron violently shoved her away from himself and then he stood there looking at her for a moment.

"I'm sorry you didn't get in, Ron," she said quietly, the words coming straight for her heart.

Something blazed in Ron's eyes again.

"No! No, don't you pity me!" he spat and the rage that had built up in him suddenly needed some kind of release.

The next moment, Ron's fist connected to her face, the impact so forceful and surprising that Hermione flew into the wall four steps behind her. She hit her head against the wall and then she slid down to the floor, a shocked, painful moan escaping her lips.

"Don't pity me."

With that, Ron apparated out of the flat, leaving Hermione to lie on the floor as she cried out in pain.

Back in Snape's office, Hermione could tell that the Potions Master was trying very hard to keep his mouth shut. She felt slightly embarrassed that he had seen her get struck in such a way, but she knew that no matter what the next memory was, it would be ten times worse.

"Last one, then, Miss Granger," Snape said as he poured the contents into the Pensieve.

Hermione braced herself, feeling somewhat safe knowing that she would not witness this memory on her own. She remembered that after Ron had hit her that first time, it had only gotten worse. And it had gotten worse quickly.

_They were once again transported to the flat and a second later they watched her and Ron come barging through the front door – they were both laughing merrily. _

"Thanks for getting me out of the house, Ron," Hermione said, smiling brightly. "I had fun tonight."

"Good, it's been a while since you let yourself let go," Ron answered, his speech slightly slurred. "Just wished you had joined in on the drinking games. You're hilarious when you're pissed."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they walked towards the bedroom.

"I think you and Harry did enough drinking for the four of us," she told him as she kicked her shoes of. "Before we left them, Ginny said she hadn't seen Harry drink so much in a long time."

She pulled her shirt off, revealing a red, lacy push up bra.

_Snape's jaw dropped. He hadn't considered the possibilities seeing her undress. He looked at Hermione, who had blushed slightly. _

"_Miss Granger, do you know what we are about to see?" he asked, silently wondering if it was necessary for him to see her without clothes. _

_Hermione nodded, her eyes suddenly frightened. She guessed the Potions Master's concern and told him that she wouldn't take of anymore of her clothes. Snape visibly relaxed and Hermione knew that if he knew what they were about to see, he would most likely not want to watch it. She turned back to the watch what was about to unfold._

Ron had a hungry look in his eyes as they traveled up and down her body. He walked around the bed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately. Hermione responded at first, but then she broke away, shaking her head.

"I'm not in the mood for this tonight, Ron," she said slowly. "I'm tired, I have a headache and I need to get up early tomorrow morning to meet with my potions partner."

She made to move away from him, but his arms hardened around her waist. He sat down on the bed and then he buried his face between her breasts, planting kisses on her skin while his hands moved down over her rear.

"Ron, I mean it, I'm not in the mood."

Ron growled as he glared up at her.

"You know, you haven't been in the mood for weeks, Hermione."

"I'm under a lot of stress, Ron. Now back the fuck off."

_Snape's eyes widened in surprise. He had never heard her swear before. _

"No, I don't think I will," Ron said as he started suckling on her nipple through the lacy bra.

Hermione shoved him away from her, anger blazing in her eyes. Ron looked surprised for a moment before his eyes narrowed. He slowly got up from the bed and advanced on her. Hermione, seeing the weird look in his eyes, instinctively backed away from him.

"I will have you tonight, 'Mione," he said as he pulled of his shirt. "One way or the other."

Hermione looked really frightened now. Her eyes went to her wand on the nightstand. Ron followed her gaze, smirking as their eyes locked again.

"Too bad I already have mine."

Before Hermione could figure out what he exactly meant by that, Ron pulled out his wand from his pocket and said, quite calmly, "_Petrificus Totalus._" Hermione's body froze and she fell to the floor.

_Snape's eyes immediately went to Hermione's. She was already looking at him, a sad expression on her face. He searched her face for answers and what he found did nothing to comfort him. _

"You know," Ron said as he undid his pants, "I should have done this a long time ago. It might bring you off your high horse, show you that you're not as special as everyone seems to think."

He got down between her legs and shoved them apart. She was wearing a skirt so all he had to do to get her ready was to pull of her knickers. He discarded them behind his back and then he forcefully shoved himself inside her. He looked into her terrified eyes the entire time. It didn't take long for him to finish. When he was done, he got up, went to bed and left her lying there on the floor.

When they came out of the Pensieve, Hermione was having some kind of panic attack. She couldn't breath properly and Snape never noticed – he was too consumed with his own memories, of a scene he long had repressed suddenly surfaced and hit him like a tidal wave. Before he gone to Hogwarts, his father had come home one night more drunk than he had ever been. His mother had started shouting at him, demanding to know where he had been and the argument had ended when his father had struck her across the face. Then he had had his way with her, ignoring her desperate pleas for him to stop.

Hermione's panic attacked died down at the same time as Snape staggered. Hermione frowned, wondering if she had ever seen him display any form of weakness. He was standing with his hands firmly placed on his desk and it appeared as if this was the only thing that kept him from falling to the floor. She walked up and placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, but was immediately shrugged off. Hermione did not try to touch him again, but she kept close to him just in case.

"I am not trying to make your pain any lesser, Miss Granger, but seeing that... made me remember things I wish could remain in the dark," he finally said, his voice trembling with emotion.

He turned his head slightly so he could look at her.

"My mother... I saw my mother get raped by my father when I was only seven."

He turned away from her so that he wouldn't be forced to see her reaction. She gasped and reached for him again, placing her hand over his own. This time he didn't shrug her off. This time he allowed this small comfort. A second later he turned his hand around so that Hermione's smaller hand gently rested in the palm of his own. Neither of them new how long they stood there.

"I think we should keep the discussion of your memories until tomorrow, Miss Granger," Snape finally said, sounding weary and almost sad. "I believe this evening has put great strain on us both."

She nodded and retracted her hand, hearing the unspoken dismissal as clearly as if he had said it out loud. Walking towards the door, all she could think of was how wonderful it would be to go to sleep.

"Need I remind you that I am a private man, Miss Granger?" he asked her suddenly.

She turned to look at him, understanding exactly what he was referring to. He didn't want her to tell anyone, not even Harry, about what had happened just now.

"No, professor, you don't," she said reassuringly and after he nodded at her, they told each other good night and then she hurried to her room and her wonderful bed.


	8. Conversations, soul mates and meditation

Chapter Seven

Conversations, soul mates and meditation

Over the next week, Snape and Hermione established some kind of routine – Hermione spent her days brewing in the private labs of the Potions Master and her evenings were spent in his office where they viewed her memories. Afterwards they could spend hours talking about what they had seen, how Hermione had felt and how a specific action in a memory could have damaged her magical core. It didn't start out this way though. No, the first time they had discussed memories was of course the evening after the first dive into the Pensieve. It had been awkward and tense, but once they finally got through the rough barrier, they managed to have a fulfilling conversation and from there on it more or less flowed naturally.

Snape seemed to think that the key element for Hermione's wonky magic lay in the fact that Ron was both abusive in his words and in his actions, but more importantly that he wasn't only using magic against her, nor was he only using brutal force. He was combining them and this together with his disrespect to Hermione's wants and wishes for her own life caused Hermione's soul to shut down – along with her magic. Ron was supposed to love her and when his actions showed her that he didn't, her soul hadn't automatically shut down. They had to be soul mates for that.

"_Soul mates?_" Hermione had asked him, her eyebrows raised in surprised. "_That's a real concept in the magical world?_"

"_It is indeed, Miss Granger,_" Snape had answered, a tiny smile playing on his lips. "_But it's not only a concept in the magical world, you know. It is just as real in the muggle world, only they are not aware of it and, of course, it manifests differently for them. It is a rare occurrence that soul mates find each other in the magical world – it's even rarer in the muggle world._"

"_Do you know of any soul mates in the recent years that have found each other?_"

Snape had given her a sad look then, almost as if it pained him to think about it.

"_Only one couple,_" he had told her very slowly, and just when she thought he would leave it at that, he had continued. "_James and Lily Potter._"

Hermione's jaw had dropped and she had so wanted to ask more about it. But the look in Snape's eyes had made her keep her mouth shut. They had gazed at each other for a moment and then Snape had gone back to real issue by informing Hermione that she and Ron clearly weren't soul mates.

"_How do you know?_" she had of course asked him.

"_Because, Miss Granger, if you were, he would never have been able to treat you the way he has. Soul mates are bonded through their souls – whatever pain he caused you, he would feel it as well. Only for him, it would be much worse. You see, he would have shared your soul and if he inflicted intentional pain to it, it would rip his own soul apart._"

They had left the discussion on soul mates there. Instead they started talking about why she had stayed with him for so long. The main reason, Hermione had claimed, was that she was supposed to be with him, or so everyone had kept telling her. That's why she had stayed, to start with. She believed somehow that his behavior would cease when they settled down together, that it was her fault that he was so insecure of himself. She knew better then anyone how he had always hated to be in his brothers shadows, that even before he started Hogwarts he knew that he could never be better than any of them. Then he had met Harry Potter and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't only be just known as "one of the Weasley kids". Well, that mission had been accomplished. But instead, he got branded as something else – "Harry Potter's best friend" – and during all his years at Hogwarts, he had been in the shadow of the famous Harry Potter, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, savior of the Wizarding world.

This had all been kind of okay, as long as Hermione had shared that label. Sure, she had always been smart and done really well in school, but she wasn't more known or more popular than Ron. On the contrary, she had been less popular due to her bossiness and her tendency of scolding people in various ways. She had become as famous as Harry over night when she graduated. Hermione had always thought that this was the catalyst for Ron's behavior. But now she knew that it had started much earlier than that, as soon as she had said that she wanted something more than to just be a housewife.

"_There is of course nothing wrong with being a housewife,_" Snape had said when it had been brought up. "_I know several women who seem to be very content with the situation. But just because Ronald Weasley had the comfort of having his mother do everything for him, should not be reason enough to force you into the same position. There must be an underlying reason for why he wanted you to stay home._"

"_But must there be?_" Hermione had countered. "_Perhaps he just liked the idea of always being able to rely on someone._"

Snape had frowned at that.

"_He would have that no matter if you were a housewife or not, Miss Granger. You were in a relationship. Is it not customary that people involved with each other rely on each other no matter what?_"

Hermione had given him a strange look. From the way he spoke it almost sounded as if he had never been in a relationship before...

"_Professor, don't you know the answer to that question yourself?_" she had asked before she got a chance to stop herself.

Snape's eyes had immediately narrowed, his mouth had thinned into a line. His glare was so intense that Hermione found herself apologizing to him, telling him that she had been out of line.

"_Instead of wasting my time by apologizing you should just answer the question, Miss Granger._"

It had taken her some time to remember what the question had been and when she finally remembered she had told him that he was correct in his assumption. What then could be the underlying reason for Ron's intense desire to keep her home?

"_Could it not be so simple, Miss Granger, that he has always known that you are destined for greater things and that if you were allowed to follow your dreams and you heart, it might take you away from him?_"

Hermione had stared at him for a long time as she processed this theory. If this was true, many things he had done to her would make sense – him forbidding her to go back to Hogwarts, his contempt when she graduated and him signing her up for a potions class without consulting her. But then again, this only applied to the things he had done in the beginning. It did not explain why he had overreacted so much to her listening in to his and Harry's fight about Auror school. Nor did it explain why he had suddenly gotten so sexually frustrated that he had decided to rape her.

"_But is does, in a way, Miss Granger. When there was a chance that he could become an Auror, he would have a respectable position. He would know that you would be proud of him and I am quite sure that he felt that he needed such a job to keep your respect. By keeping your respect, he would be able to keep you._"

He had made a brief pause to gather his thoughts.

"_As for him raping you, that was merely a way for him to show you that he has power of you. That you really are beneath him. It was a warning, informing you that if you ever left him, he would be able to cause you a lot of pain._"

Hermione had let his words sunk in, knowing that there was truth in them. She had just been too blind to see it herself. There had been a time when she was strong enough to fight back, even though it had been half-hearted. She had slapped him a few times and she had thrown a few curses his way, but that was when he had started getting into her head. He fed her stories while he was plowing into her – her body usually too battered for her to resist him in no other way then verbally – that no one would ever believe her if she started telling people of what was going on. He told her that their friends would think she was cursed, that she was unhappy with her life and was taking out on him and that they would never, ever take her side. She would be left alone in a world that she hadn't grown up in. There were no other relatives in the magical world, no other childhood friends. She would be reduced to an outcast.

"_I hope you realize that these are his own concerns?_" Snape had asked her after they had come out of the Pensieve one evening. "_He knows that if anyone every found out what he was done to you, people will shun him._"

"_But not everyone,_" Hermione had said with a small voice.

"_You think of the rest of the Weasley clan, the people you have come to see as family._"

Hermione hadn't answered, but he had seen in her eyes that he was on to something.

"_No, they will perhaps find some way of putting the blame on you,_" Snape offered unwillingly. "_However, you have a very strong ally in Mr Potter. Perhaps he will be able to make them see sense._"

Her worried features had softened at the mentioning of Harry. She still hated herself for ever doubting him. Knowing that she had him on her side was the greatest comfort she ever could have imagined. He would keep her strong, no matter what happened in the future.

HP*HP*HP*HP*HP

A week after their first encounter in the Pensieve, Hermine no longer felt nervous as she knocked on the feared Potions Master's door.

"You're late," Snape snapped as soon as she had gotten to his side of the door.

Hermione's spirits fell. Great, he was in some kind of mood this evening. Hearing "you're late" instead of "Good evening, Miss Granger" clearly had to be a sign that he was a bit morose. Well, she was quite sure that she was about to change that.

"I'm only a minute late, sir. A group of second year Ravenclaws decided that it would be fun to hurl a Fanged Frisbee around the Dungeon corridors. I took it away from them and docked twenty points."

He looked up from the paper he had been grading, seemingly quite startled.

"What?" Hermione asked innocently as she waved the Frisbee at him. "Was I too harsh?"

Snape's mouth twitched and he put the quill back in its stand.

"Too harsh? No, Miss Granger, I'd gather you were much too benevolent," he drawled as he got up from the uncomfortable, wooden chair. "Twenty points... You did not see it fit to give them detention?"

"No, sir," Hermione said, her eyes wide in fake innocence. "I wanted to, but then I realized that I didn't know what would be appropriate. I guess the natural thing would be to send them on to you in the future and let you handle them."

She put the Frisbee on his desk ans then she flopped down in what had become her chair, waiting for Snape to join her. As he sat down she noticed he was smirking.

"Perhaps it would be more appropriate if you restrained from giving them detentions in the future," he said quietly as he gave her a knowing look. "I would be much better for my House if you simply docked points."

Hermione gave him a small smile, hoping all along that he would say something along those lines.

"Unless I of course dock points from Slytherin, sir."

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"And why would you ever even consider doing something so stupid?" he asked, one eyebrow lifted in question, as he wandlessly started a fire in the fireplace.

"I would never do anything your precious Slytherins wouldn't deserve. Unlike you, I would never take points simply out of spite."

Snape started, caught off guard by both her words and sudden, much more colder tone. He tilted his head as he watched her, her body language more or less screaming that something was bothering her.

"I usually do not permit snide comments, Miss Granger, but I feel as if this is something you are not just saying in the spur of the moment," he said and she raised her eyes to give him a challenging look. "Am I to understand that you are holding a grudge because you believe that I unfairly docked points from Gryffindor when Mr Potter did something idiotic in my classroom?"

Hermione snorted, her arms folding over her chest.

"This has nothing to do with Harry, Professor. This has to do with me, and me alone. I have never forgiven nor forgotten what you said to me that day."

Snape strangely felt a small, tiny hint of remorse. He actually remembered the day she was most likely referring to. He had, of course, treated her unfairly.

"Miss Granger, I take it you are referring to the day when I took points from Gryffindor because you were an –"

"...insufferable know-it-all. Yes. That would be the day I'm referring to. How interesting that you knew that that was what I was thinking about."

Snape winced slightly at her tone, but he kept his gaze firmly locked with hers.

"Yes, I did call you an insufferable know-it-all. And I did take points from Gryffindor on those grounds. But Miss Granger, if I apologized for every little thing I have done unjustly, I would have to take a vacation in order to do so."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm not asking you to apologize for every little thing, Professor. I'm asking you to apologize for this specific taunt. And believe me, there is a lot more I should have you apologize for."

Snape sighed, lowering his gaze to his hands.

"Very well then, Miss Granger. I apologize for my words that day and for taking points from Gryffindor for that specific situation. It was wrong of me to do either."

Hermione's heart swelled.

"Thank you, Professor."

Snape wanted to wince when he heard the amount of gratitude in her voice, but he manage to get his emotionless mask back on before he actually did it. What was it with this woman? She managed to get under his skin almost daily.

"If we are done with this, perhaps we can move on?" he asked her quickly, before she could say anything more. "I would like to introduce meditation in to your rehabilitation."

Hermione blinked, surprised by this information. Snape hurriedly told her why she was to meditate with a very long monologue.

During yesterday's session they had talked about Hermione's choice to not use magic to fight Ron off, a choice she had given much consideration, and which in turn could have short circuited something in her mind. After Hermione had gone to bed, Snape had researched the link between a person's magical core and the brain. Some believed that the link was there in a sense, but in the end it didn't matter – they were two different elements within a person's body. Others said that the link between the two was a crucial part of how the body was constructed. Even Muggles, people without magic, still had a very clear link between their souls and minds – if the link was severed, due to damage to either part, the other would be affected as well. In some way or the other. For wizards and witches, their magic was tied to their souls. Most theorists summarized their hypotheses by saying that it made more sense for the magical core to get damage than the soul, mainly due to the fact that the body and the brain felt it could survive without the magic.

"So wait, let me get this straight," Hermione said as Snape finished telling her about the theories. "You're telling me that I lost control of my magic because my brain decided that it would be better than..."

"... living with a damaged soul," Snape finished for her. "Yes. Have you seen the state people are in after having a Dementor suck out a soul?"

Hermione shuddered, remembering vividly the look on Barty Crouch's face in the Daily Prophet after the story of his return had been published.

"The soul and mind are connected as well, you know," Snape continued. "The people who suffer a Dementor's Kiss lose their soul – indirectly they lose their minds at the same time."

"But why aren't we taught that in school?" Hermione demanded, feeling very cheated for not knowing this piece of information.

Snape gestured towards the books on his desk.

"Because it's only a theory. Everything I've told you tonight are just theories. Nothing has been proven and I doubt any of it ever can be. The only reason we say they suck out a person's soul is because when the Dementors first were discovered a millennium ago, the concept of soul mates had just been established and I suppose that it was 'high fashion' to use the word 'soul'."

Soul mates. They were back on that subject. Hermione desperately wanted to ask about Harry's parents, but she knew how much Snape had loved Lily Potter, it had been so painfully obvious in the memories he had given Harry.

"Sir, I doubt you will be thrilled about me asking, on the contrary, I think you'll be livid, but I really feel that I must, for Harry's sake, and I'm really, truly sorry if it makes you unhappy, but–"

"For the love of all that is good and holy, spit it out before you lose your nerve!" Snape interrupted, knowing all along that this topic would sooner or later be something that he would have to face. "And it would be best to do so before you anger me further with your barely coherent babble."

Hermione squeaked and wrung her hands together in her lap, gathering her thoughts so she could keep from babbling. She couldn't understand why she was still so nervous – he had given her permission to ask him about it!

"How did the Potter's realize that they were soul mates?" she asked him quietly, not daring to look at him. "And how did you find out?"

His answer didn't come immediately. But when he spoke, his voice was so soft and quiet and sad that she almost didn't hear him.

"If the recounts from the previous soul mated couples are true, they found out the first time they... were intimate with each other. Of course, I do not mean, just 'snogging'. I am referring to the first time they... Oh, I beg of you not to make me say it."

The look he gave her was almost as begging as his tone. Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. It was oddly cute to see her eloquent Potions Professor stumble so intensely on just one word. She wondered if it was the word in general or the fact that he was talking about Lily Potter that made him struggle with the words. She guessed that it was the latter.

"I understand what you can't say, Professor," she said, putting him out of his misery. "Please continue."

"When soul mates open the portal to each others souls, it can never be closed," Snape continued, back in lecture mode. "They will feel each other all the time – if the other one is sad, or hurt, or in danger. Sadly, this is about all we know about soul mates. All of them have been, naturally, not quite so outspoken as many would have liked. We are not aware of if there are more special powers that goes along with being attached to each other in such a way."

He suddenly raised himself from the chair and walked over to a bookcase. Hermione, of course, thought that he was getting a book for her to read more on the subject. However, he reached for a bottle of Firewhiskey instead, pouring some of the liquid into two glasses. When he came back, he handed one of them to Hermione. She took the glass and looked at it for a moment.

"No tea tonight then, sir?" she wondered, tilting her head slightly.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"No tea tonight," he answered and then he took a long sip from his own glass.

Hermione watched him a moment longer, not sure how to interpret this situation. Most likely he just wanted a stiff drink himself, being forced to think about his beloved Lily having sex with James Potter and felt obligated to offer her some as well. As a matter of fact, that was the only logical reason she could think of that would enable him to share a glass of Firewhiskey with her. Sighing softly, she took a small sip of the whiskey. She winced as she felt the liquid burn her throat. Would she never get used to the sensation? True, she didn't drink anything containing alcohol often, but still. It wasn't very adult like to wince with every sip of Firewhiskey.

"The reason I know about them being soul mates is highly personal, and I would rather not discuss it," Snape continued, downing the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. "It would be sufficient for me to inform you that that was the last thing she ever said to me."

Hermione's eyes widened. There was so much now that suddenly made more sense, why the hatred for James Potter had been carried on to Harry – Hermione knew that Snape had been in love with Lily and she also knew how sorry he had been for calling her mudblood. He must have tried so many times more to beg her forgiveness than the memory he had bestowed upon Harry. Hermione could easily imagine him asking her to forgive him and then in his anger when she wouldn't instead demand to know why she had to be with James. She could see Lily turning around and simply answering him "because we are soul mates." Snape would have sneered at that, saying something about sappy love, to which Lily would have given him a dead serious look and saying "No, Severus. We are real soul mates." And then she most likely would have just left him standing there.

"Miss Granger!"

She snapped out of her daydreaming at the sound of his angry tone. She must have not heard him the first couple of times he called her name. He gave her a calculating look.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to share this entire story with Mr Potter?" he wondered, suddenly sounding so indifferent that he might as well could have been asking about the weather.

Hermione took another small sip and forced herself not to wince before she answered him.

"I would like to tell him parts of it, if nothing else, sir," she said slowly, wondering how to best present the reason for this without upsetting him. "It's just that... he has never known them. He didn't have grandparents that could tell him about them. His aunt detested to think about Lily, let along talk about her. For the longest time, the only memories he had of them was of the night Vol–"

"Do not say that name!" Snape interrupted loudly, giving her a deathly glare.

"... came to the house and killed them," Hermione said as if he hadn't said anything at all and upon seeing his confusion she told him about the Dementors in their third year.

Snape looked troubled after she was done, with the way he was staring into the fire. Hermione waited a few minutes before she continued once again, wanting to give him some time to digest her words.

"I know telling Harry about this won't be like giving him new memories of his parents. It would just be a way of letting him know how much they loved each other. That they were meant to be together."

Snape flinched slightly next to her and then took a slow, shuddering breath.

"Very well. You may tell him."

They sat in silence for a while. Hermione finished her drink, a general warm feeling spreading through her body.

"So. Meditation?" she said cheerfully, trying to break the seriousness that had settled over them.

Snape stirred and gave her an almost confused look before he suddenly got to his feet.

"Yes, meditation," he said, going back into lecture mode. "I want you meditate in order to try to locate your magical core. Should you be successful and feel it, we might get a better grip of what we are dealing with."

He walked over to the bookcase once more and this time he brought out a book for her.

"I want you to read chapter four and five before you come back for tomorrow's session," he said as he handed her a thick book.

Hermione turned it over in her hands and saw that it was called _The Art of Mental Magic – from Occlumency to Mental Magic Duels._

"And now, Miss Granger, I would like to retire for the evening. I suddenly feel very weary."

He sounded weary too. He even looked weary, as if he had suddenly aged by several years. Hermione understood that he wanted to be alone with his own memories and thoughts.

"Okay, Professor. Good night."

He gave a curt nod in reply and then Hermione left him. She felt the need to take a long shower and once she was refreshed she could perhaps write to Harry about his parents. As she undressed she realized that telling her best friend that his parents had been soul mates should not be done through a letter. No, it was much too personal. She would have to wait until the next time she saw him.

As the water splashed down along her body, she thought back on the week. It had definitely been a good week and it had been a long time since she had experienced a full, good week. She saw Hagrid every morning and was always greeted with bright smiles from the rest of the staff. She enjoyed brewing for Professor Snape, understanding now how much she had missed it. Even though the potions were very simple, she had fun and her confidence grew every day. Perhaps she could return to her research some day in the near future. And even her evenings with Snape were pleasant enough, because he made them pleasant. The memories they had watched were quite awful, but the Potions Master had gone through lengths to try to make her feel more comfortable. The fire was always lit for her (yes, for her – the last six days he hadn't lit it before she entered the room) and he had started telling Dobby to have tea ready by the time they got out from the Pensieve. Chamomile tea, because it had a natural calming effect on the mind. All in all, it had been a good week. She really hoped that the next week would be as good.

HP*HP*HP*HP*HP

AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter – please review! Next chapter starts with Hermione managing to locate and feel her magical core and ends with a midnight trip to the Forbidden Forest with Snape in search of potions ingredients.


	9. A damaged core and a midnight stroll

AN: Sorry for the long delay, I've been struggling quite a bit with how to proceed with this story. I don't know much about meditation, so I've taken what I know and mixed it with my creativity. Hope you enjoy it, 'cause it wasn't easy to write. =)

Chapter Eight

A damaged core and a midnight stroll

As Hermione ate her breakfast of toast and tea, she was reading the book she had gotten from Snape the previous night and therefor she took little notice of the people around her in the Great Hall. The book was interesting enough for her to miss the chatter about the latest gossip in the Daily Prophet and that was probably good, as Rita Skeeter continued her onslaught to damage Hermione's reputation. The minute she was done, Hermione lifted the heavy book of the table and kept her eyes glued to the page as she started down the hall to the dungeons.

"Right on time, Miss Granger," Snape said briskly as she came through the door to his lab. "I intended you to brew the Draught of Peace today, but we seem to be out of hellebore."

Hermione noted that the usually so calm professor seemed to be a bit stressed today. He was going from cupboard to cupboard in a fast pace, slamming the doors as he realized that whatever he was looking for wasn't in there.

"Madame Pomfrey is more or less out of this potion, so we need to procure some hellebore as quick as possible. Seeing as the this potion is the only one there is nothing left of, I feel that we need to make this potion our highest priority."

He finally straightened up and looked at her.

"For some reason, I have managed to miss that the school's supply of hellebore has thinned out to the extent that we do not have enough to even make one batch of the Draught of Peace," he said, his expression turning into a grimace of annoyance at himself for letting that happen.

"How do we get some hellebore then, Professor? Do we buy it?"

Snape shook his head and magically conjured two baskets with firm handles.

"It grows in the Forbidden Forest," he answered as he placed the baskets on the working bench. "I never buy ingredients that can be found on the grounds, for two reasons – most magical potions ingredients are best when they are fresh, but many of them need to be procured at a special phase of the moon and one can never be quite certain that when buying these items they have been picked under the right moon."

Hermione was nodding at the end of his little lecture.

"Hellebore should be picked at the the crescent moon after the full moon," she said, remembering reading about it for her Advanced Potions Class.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Snape said with a tiny smile and Hermione's cheeks flushed in delight. "And we are in luck, Miss Granger. The moon that is so specific for hellebore happens to show its face tonight."

It was then decided that they would take a midnight stroll out on the grounds of the forest to get the flower that was needed for the potion he wanted her to make. However, this meant that Hermione had nothing to do really until Snape was finished with his classes for the day. She reread the two chapters in _The Art of Mental Magic_ and then she tried the breathing exercise that was described there. After that she went to the library and browsed along the bookshelves of the many volumes of priceless magic books. A little bit before dinner, Snape found her reading the first edition of _Hogwarts, A History._

"Really, Miss Granger, had I known you would read that book yet again, I would have assigned more chapters in _The Art of Mental Magic_," he drawled and then swiped the book from her hands.

He put the book back and then beckoned for her to follow him.

"I thought we should try meditating before dinner," he said as they walked down the halls briskly, the students jumping out of their way whenever they got too close. "It really is better to meditate on an empty stomach."

Hermione felt a bit apprehensive, since she had more or less failed everything in the last couple of months. But she knew the theory behind meditation, she had practiced the breathing exercises – she should be able to do this without too much trouble. However... She was still worried. They entered his office, where Snape quickly began rearranging the furniture. He swooshed the comfy chairs up against the wall with a flick of his wand and then made two big, plush pillows pop up out of thin air. She saw him scowl and the next second the room was filled with candles. One last flick and a fire was lit.

"The candles are purely meant to help you relax," he said, warning her to joke about them. "Since you have read the chapters on meditation, I will not attempt to explain what we will be doing next."

Hermione simply nodded and gulped as she tried to suppress her fear. She sat down on one of the pillows and folded her legs into the Half-Lotus Position, knowing full well that she was not bendy enough to try the real Lotus Position. Then she placed her hands, palms up, in her lap. A few feet across from her, she saw Snape mirror her position.

"I will instruct you as we go along, Miss Granger," he murmured just loud enough for her to hear him. "Please do not allow yourself to be startled by my voice. I will speak no louder than I am now."

Hermione nodded, feeling annoyed at herself that she so far had been so jumpy in his presence, and then she took a deep breath. Their eyes met and held for a moment.

"Are you ready to begin?"

The soothing tone of his voice was already making her relax. She nodded and took another long, deep breath.

"Close your eyes."

Hermione complied and was met with a black darkness that was almost comforting.

"Keep your breathing steady. Breath only with your nose. Your mind will start to drift to various things – that's alright. Let it wander free until you are tranquil enough to let your mind be emptied. Don't force it. It will come."

For a long time, that was all Snape said. Hermione didn't know how long they sat there in silence, but there were many, many things that passed through her mind as she did. Memories of Hogwarts, her life before she became a witch, the hardships she and her friends endured during the war... They flashed in and out – she never really ventured into details of the memories, she just let them come, marveling at how her mind was working. For a while she recited parts of the chapters she had read before this session, which turned into an exploration of other things she remembered from books and other things she had learned.

Snape was in the same position she was, only his eyes were open and firmly glued to the witch in front of him. He was looking at her posture and listening to her breathing. So far she was doing very well. Eventually, Hermione's brain seemed to accept that it should be working much slower, since the rest of her had gone into a very relaxed mode, almost as if she was sleeping. And suddenly Snape instinctively knew that now it was time for his part in her meditation.

"Let the darkness surround you," he said, just loud enough for her to hear him, his voice carefully calm and comforting. "Don't let it fright you. Welcome it as if it were a long lost friend."

Hermione surrendered herself to the darkness and it engulfed her fully, almost willingly. She could feel it go through her entire being, all the way out to her toes and to the tips of her fingers. She even felt the hairs on her neck prickle.

"The darkness and you are one. Let it guide you to the part of you that is damaged. The darkness wants to help you. You can feel its need to comply to your every wish."

She was almost surprised to realize that he was right. She could feel the darkness quiver in delight at his words, eager to show her that he spoke nothing but the truth. The darkness knew what was going on, it could hear Snape just as easily as she could. (Later on she would realize that this was logical, as the darkness and she were one.) Snape hesitated before he continued, because he had come to part which was most sketchy, the part that was subjective to everyone.

"Surrender the last of your control to the darkness. Let it take you to place inside yourself that has suffered and that is still suffering greatly."

She wasn't sure how she surrendered this control, but she did. The minute the last of her control escaped her, there was some kind of impact that had her falling backwards, her head landing on a soft pillow instead of the cold, stone floor solely due to Snape's quick thinking in conjuring another pillow for her at the last second. He watched her in alarm, wondering what was going on inside her. She was not twitching in spastic pain, nor did she seem to be in any sort of discomfort. Had it worked? Was this the final step in finding her magical core? He got up from his pillow so that he could hover closer to her in case he needed to act quickly.

Hermione couldn't explain it, but she could feel the darkness enter her soul, enter her magic. She could even see it, in a way, even though she wasn't aware of this at the moment. The next second there was a flash of brilliant light and she found herself face to face with her magical core. Hermione gasped at the sight of it – she could tell that her core was supposed to be connected in an orb of light, but it was as if the orb had been shattered into pieces, which were now floating around, trying to find their way back to each other without success. She felt a wave of extreme sadness come over her. The shiny, white light was pure and innocent and longed to be connected with each other and with her soul again – she could _feel_ that – and it was all her fault that this beautiful part of her had been broken into a million, tiny pieces. She had to fix this. She _had_ to.

Hermione let out a wild gasp and shot up from off the floor into a sitting position. She was so close to panicking, she could tell, and there was nothing she could do alone to stop the anxiety attack from coming. She felt strong arms embrace her from behind, her back being firmly molded into someone's body. Her hands flew up to grip the arms around her in support, her chest heaving in uncontrolled, breaths.

"You're alright," a far off voice whispered, "you're alright. Breath. Everything will be okay. Relax and try to control your breathing."

Hermione listened to the voice, tried to follow its instructions. Slowly, but steadily, her breathing calmed and along with that, her senses returned to her. She knew now what had happened. She knew that the voice belonged to Professor Snape. And she also knew that said professor was holding her tightly to his chest, breaking all his rules of personal space simply in an attempt to calm her down. She felt her heart constrict in gratitude, because at the moment there was nothing more she wanted or needed. His arms around her was the only thing keeping her from going into hysterics. Despite this, the next second she promptly burst into tears.

Snape had gotten a mere half a second warning before she had returned to an awakened state. Her eyes had opened before the rest of her body had realized what was going on and he had knelt down beside her at an instant. When she had flown up from the floor, he had quickly positioned himself where her head had been, knowing full well that she would need time to "wake up" properly and that whatever she had seen would most likely have upset her. He had not hesitated drawing her into his arms, as he had known from the beginning that she would need to be comforted if she managed to be successful, which, by the looks of it, she had been. Whatever she had seen had been traumatic – just like he had expected it to be for her. He had prepared himself ahead of time to disregard his own feelings, and had thus not given a second thought to pulling her into his chest.

He felt quite astounded that it appeared as if she had managed to locate her magical core on the first attempt – he had expected her to push away from the darkness, just has he had done the first time he had meditated. Then again, he had not been in dire need to have the meditation being successful – he had simply done it to try to find a relaxed state of mind during some of the most tiresome days during the war. As she burst into tears, he felt a pang of sympathy for her, but pushed it away, knowing that coddling her now would not help her. He would allow her to calm down, then he would demand of her to tell him what she had seen, before her feelings got too wrapped up into her memory of what had really happened. A few minutes later, Hermione had calmed down somewhat, but now she felt tired. Really, really mentally exhausted. She let her head fall back on to Snape's shoulder and she was too tired to notice how he stiffened.

"Miss Granger, we need to talk about what you experienced before you go to sleep," he said quietly, but still firmly.

"Mmm," Hermione agreed and let her eyes close despite his words.

"In other words, I shall fetch you a Pepperup Potion so that you remain conscious."

Before Hermione knew what had happened, she was in an upright position, standing on her own two feet. She felt lightheaded and swayed a bit, and thus Snape quickly summoned the chair for her to sit in before she collapsed in a heap on the floor. As she sat down, Hermione blinked, trying to process... well, everything. It was hard to understand what had happened, but she knew that she had seen her magical core. She took a shuddering breath, holding the tears in as she thought about it.

"Drink this," Snape said and held out a vial to her.

Hermione took it immediately and emptied the content in one gulp. She felt refreshed in only a few seconds, and when Snape sat down opposite of her, her eyes were sharp and her mind was ready to go.

The next ten minutes Hermione tried to explain what she had experienced in her meditated state of mind, everything from the things she had felt to the things she had seen. Snape appeared to understand her more or less, but as she couldn't exactly describe what it had been like, he couldn't exactly understand her either.

"It was so sad, seeing it like that. It was shattered like a puzzle with the smallest and most difficult pieces I've ever seen. This feels like an impossible task, Professor."

He gave her a tiny smile.

"Nothing is impossible, Miss Granger. A puzzle can always be solved once you put your mind to it and allow yourself to realize that it might take time – and we will solve your puzzle, Miss Granger. We will."

HP*HP*HP*HP*HP

Hermione felt oddly refreshed and high in spirit after her three hour nap after dinner. Along with the long bath she had taken, she felt as if she could stay up all night, a feeling she hadn't been familiar with since her Hogwarts years. Snape had told her to meet up with him at eleven thirty at the Great Hall and from there they would venture out on the grounds and the Forbidden Forest. She knew she should feel slightly nervous, but she couldn't bring herself to worry about going into a forest filled with dangerous beasts. She was going with Severus Snape, the most capable and powerful wizard she knew nowadays. With time, Harry would be in his league, if he just learned to control the magic within him better. She would be perfectly safe, she was sure of that.

Hermione had put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a long-sleeved sweatshirt and sturdy boots – who knew how long they would be out in the coldish October night? It was strange seeing the halls deserted completely, but at the same time it was nice to have it so quite after the evening she had so far had. After a moment she could hear steps coming down the hall and a second later she saw Snape striding towards her, his robes billowing after him as always.

"Miss Granger," he said in greeting, inclining his head slightly. "Are you certain you are up for this?"

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"I am, Professor. I've slept and feel fully refreshed. I am ready to..."

She clamped her mouth shut as she noticed that he was staring at her.

"What are you wearing, Miss Granger? Where are your robes?"

Hermione looked down at her clothes, wondering what was wrong with her outfit – it was perfectly ordinary in every way.

"Robes are not practical for me in the conditions of the forest, sir. I have a tendency to be a bit clumsy when I'm not walking on a straight, paved road, so I thought it best to make sure that my legs and feet had one less thing to stumble upon."

Snape said nothing in return. He simply stared at her legs. Seeing as most witches usually wore robes to hide their curves, he couldn't help but notice hers in those jeans. The muggle clothing fit tightly over her thighs and he was sure that he would find that they fit just as tightly over her bum. He swallowed, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. He hadn't seen so much of a woman since before the war. Sure, he had seen her wearing much less in the Pensieve memories, but that was different. He avoided looking at her directly then because he was busy taking in everything surrounding the memory and he didn't need the distraction. Now she was standing right in front of him and there was nothing to keep him from staring at her. Merlin, help him. Would he survive the night?

"Professor, are you alright?"

Her concerned voice brought him back to his senses. He blinked and snapped his eyes up to meet her inquiring gaze.

"Quite," he murmured. "Forgive me, I am not accustomed to see such clothing."

Without further ado, he gave her one of the baskets and then they set off. They didn't say anything as they crossed the grounds, walking briskly over the grass plains where Hermione had spent much of her time studying for her N.E.W.T. exams. Without Harry and Ron, it had been quite dull, but she had gotten so much time to study that she had passed all of her exams easily and with flying colors. It felt like it had been so long ago...

"Miss Granger, we don't have time for you to reminisce at the moment," Snape suddenly snapped, making her jump – he always did, even though he seldom sounded angry or annoyed with her.

Hermione blinked in confusion. She hadn't even realized that she had stopped walking to stare out over the grounds.

"Sorry, Professor. I didn't even know I was doing it."

He just looked at her and then turned around again, heading for the Forest that was rapidly coming closer. She hurried to keep up with him, knowing that she was only safe in the dark, dangerous place as long as she was close to him.

"I know where in the Forest we are going, but keep an eye for the plant as we make our way there. We will not be following the the paths."

Hermione felt a chill go through her, knowing that she was not a good hiker on uneven terrain. Hopefully she wouldn't trip if she just watched where she was going, but if she was supposed to look for the plant as well... Then it could become troublesome. As they entered the Forest, Hermione checked her watch to note the time. Eleven thirty-eight. She hoped they wouldn't have to go too far into the woods, because that might make them too late. But surely Snape would have told her to meet her earlier if that was the case?

"Professor, we are looking for _Helleborus_ _foetidus_, aren't we?" she wondered in an attempt to take her mind of the road (or the lack of one) ahead.

"We are indeed, Miss Granger," Snape replied, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up. "I was certain you would know what it looks like, so I thought it unnecessary to describe it to you."

Hermione watched him lift his robes slightly to step over a big tree trunk that had fallen over, which, by the looks of it, had been there for quite some time. She inhaled deeply as she came closer to it, wondering if this was going to be the first time she fell flat on her nose this evening. The log reached half way up on her thighs. Snape, being quite a bit taller than her, had not had any problems getting over. As she put one leg over the tree, Snape held out his hand in an offer to help her across. She took it willingly, giving him a brilliant smile for sensing her problem. He didn't smile back, but he inclined his head in acknowledgment and as she lifted her other leg across, she felt him tighten his grip around her wrist.

"Thank you, sir," she said when she was safely had both feet on the ground and he gently squeezed her hand before letting go.

Hermione's hand was almost tingling for a few seconds after he had let go. After the events earlier this evening, she could feel that something in their professor-student relationship had shifted into something... not quite more, but definitively different. In a good way. The change was miniscule, but she could sense it. She wondered if he could sense it as well or if her tired mind was over analyzing things.

Snape couldn't explain what had changed between them. He supposed that after comforting her for so long, but especially so intimately, something was bound to feel different. His need to protect her was stronger than it had been before she had meditated. He hadn't permitted himself to analyze the feelings that emerged while she had been in his arms, but now as he thought back on it, a small part of him hadn't minded having his arms around her. He might have even liked it. It was mainly the fact that someone was allowing him to do the consoling – he couldn't even remember if he had ever done anything so innocently intimate before. He had been with women... Some had been paid for, while others had been charmed into his bed with the most powerful weapon of seduction he had – his voice. But he had fornicated with them simply to get some relief and to get away from the horror that had been his life. It had never meant anything – and he was fairly certain that he never had cuddled with any of them afterwards.

"What else can you tell me about the plant we are about to retrieve, Miss Granger?" he suddenly asked to have something else to think about.

"Well, it usually prefers woodland conditions with deep, fertile, moist soil with dappled shade, which makes the Forest a superb place for it to grow," Hermione said as she pulled up the facts of this plant from her memory. "What I don't understand, though, is that it's supposed to flower in spring and it's autumn now."

She didn't voice her question out loud and she hoped that Snape would sense it anyway.

"Ah, that would be the work of Albus Dumbledore," he answered, and Hermione smiled at the mentioning of her old headmaster. "When I first came to work here, the school had limited funding due to the war and thus Albus saw fit to buy seeds for some of the most prominent potions plants that were easy enough to look after. He added some complicated magic.. And ever since, the hellebore flowers four times."

"But why not let it grow in the greenhouses on the grounds, sir?" she wondered as she thought of all the dangerous plants that grew there.

Snape turned to give her an incredulous look.

"You should not have to ask me that when it comes to hellebore, Miss Granger," he replied, shooting her a rather pointed gaze.

Hermione thought back on what she knew about hellebore and a second later she uttered;

"Oh, right. Prefers woodland conditions. Duh."

Snape smirked a bit, feeling a bit content that the famous know-it-all actually forgot some of the facts once in a while. Just when she was about to ask what other plants Dumbledore had procured seeds for to plant in the forest, there was a a noise somewhere from the right of her – a twig being broken as if it had been stepped on. Snape twirled around, wand drawn, and grabbed Hermione's arm before he quickly flung her behind his back. He held his arm out in a protective sort of way and narrowed his eyes as he stared at the trees, looking for whatever creature he had to deal with. The next moment he felt Hermione jump at the sound of a dog's bark, and he relaxed his posture slightly, getting a fairly certain idea of which two creatures were coming.

"Fang, get back here, you ruddy beast!"

Hermione relaxed at the sound of Hagrid's voice and a second later, Fang shot through the trees and ran straight against her. A huge grin broke out over her lips and she thrust her arms open to welcome him in.

"Hi, Fang!" she said enthusiastically as he got up on his hind legs to try to lick her face.

Hermione supported the enormous dog for a few seconds – then he got much too heavy. She shoved him away as Hagrid emerged from behind the trees and the half-giants annoyed expression shifted to delight at the sight of Hermione.

"What a surprise to find yer here! What are the two of yer doin' out at this time of night?"

His inquiring eyes shifted to Snape.

"Collecting potions ingredients," Snape replied curtly. "Certain plants can only be picked under the waning crescent moon" – here Snape lifted his eyes towards the sky to look at the thin half of light – "thus we are here for hellebore."

Hermione thought his explanation was a wee bit rough, but she supposed he wanted to get it over with quickly so they could continue. She could also almost detect how much he disliked having to explain himself to Hagrid.

"All right, then. I should tell yer that the Centaurs are on the other side o' the forest, so you shouldn't have any trouble from them."

"I was never worried," Snape sneered before giving the half-giant a nod in dismissal before turning to Hermione. "Let's be on our way."

Hermione gave Hagrid a smile and he took care to wish her a safe evening. Then she briskly followed Snape further into the dark woods.

"You know, you could have been nicer towards him," Hermione said after a moment.

Snape shot her an incredulous look.

"Nicer?" he repeated, almost scornfully. "That would imply that I was nice to begin with."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean, Professor. Why do you have to treat him with open contempt?"

Snape came to an abrupt stop and turned to look at her fully.

"Tell me, Miss Granger – does it lie in my nature to be _nice_ to people?"

Hermione gave him an uncertain look, not sure whether he was upset with her or not. He didn't really seem to be, but she had stopped relying on her ability to read the emotions on other people's faces a long time ago.

"I suppose not, sir, but..."

"No," he interrupted her calmly. "No buts. 'I suppose not, sir' should have been followed by a full stop. I am not nice to anyone, Miss Granger. Nor am I a nice person. Try to remember that."

He swirled around and started walking again, and Hermione had to jog a bit to keep up with him.

"But, sir..."

"No buts, Miss Granger!" he snapped as he turned to face her, only to have her crash right into him.

Hermione let out an undignified "ooof!" as her face collided with his chest. As she was about to ricochet backwards to the ground, he caught hold of her arms, but it was already to late – most of her weight was already on the way down and the result of this was that Snape fell over with her. He landed on top of her and they both gasped as the air was knocked out of them. Snape was too surprised and dazed at what had happened to react right away. He stayed where he was a few moments more than was perhaps necessary. As soon as their eyes locked, she blushed and that's what it took for him to realize that he was lying on top of Hermione Granger. He shied away from her and quickly and ungracefully got to his feet. He brushed his robed off and then held out his hand in an attempt to help her on her feet.

"Have you always been this clumsy, Miss Granger?" he murmured as he heaved her back up.

"I wouldn't have survived the war if I had always been this clumsy," she whispered in reply. "I don't know what's come over me. I'm sorry."

He gave her a searching look and then simply nodded.

"No matter. We are almost in the area where the hellebore grows. Let's just the pick the flowers and be on our way, yes? You must be tired. The sooner we have filled the baskets, the sooner you can retire to your bed."

Hermione noticed that he wouldn't look at her. Perhaps he was embarrassed. She decided it was to just do as he asked – she was, after all, alone with Severus Snape in the Forbidden Forest without the ability to perform magic. She sighed in defeat and gave him a nod, knowing that there was a slight chance that she might end up sleeping unprotected in the Forest if she got him angry enough.

HP * HP * HP * HP

AN: I'm not all that happy with this chapter, but at least it's over with now. Like I said in the beginning, sorry for the long delay. I'll try to be better in the future – I have a feeling that the next chapter won't be as difficult to write.


	10. The Dangers of Potions Class

AN: Sorry it's been so long! I've been inter railing in Europe – hard to write and update when you don't even know were you're going to be the next day. =) But here goes!

Chapter Nine

The Dangers of Potions Class

It was three weeks to day of Hermione's coming to Hogwarts when she sat down for breakfast a little later than usual – Snape had already eaten and cleared off – and saw that she had three letters waiting for her on the chair she usually sat on while dining in the Great Hall. She frowned slightly before scooping them up so that she could sit down. Without looking at them, she grabbed a piece of buttered toast which she wolfed down quickly, realizing by the scarce amount of students in the Hall just how late she was actually running. When she had eaten and had had a cup of tea she finally looked at the letters. Deep down she already knew who they were from, but she had hoped to be wrong. She saw Ginny's cursive handwriting and took a deep breath as she opened the envelope. The letter was short and straight to the point.

_Hermione, I don't think I've ever been so angry with you! That you don't even possess the courtesy to answer my letter goes beyond my understanding. Keep this up and you won't be allowed at my wedding!_

Hermione let out an uncharacteristic snort at the last sentence. Harry hadn't even proposed yet and here Ginny was saying that _she, _Harry's best friend and closest thing he had to a sister, wouldn't be invited. Like Harry _ever_ would allow that. She set Ginny's letter aside and reached for the next one. Molly's loopy handwriting. Hermione sighed, already dreading the hurt and confusion she would find in this letter.

_Why haven't you answered my letter or come by to explain the situation, Hermione? I am most shocked and hurt by your behavior, I always expected more of you than this. I have seen you as a child of my very own and for the first time since I've known you I am sad to say that I am disappointed in you. I never thought there would come a day when I'd disappointed, hurt and confused when it came to you. But that day is now here. – Molly_

Hermione inhaled sharply as she blinked away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Oh, how she hated to be doing this to Molly! But there was nothing she could do to avoid it. Snape said it was for the better, for the time being. She had to regain her magical ability before she could go to Weasley's. She couldn't leave Hogwarts unprepared. The last letter was from – Hermione gulped – Ron.

_My dearest Hermione, please come home. I can't cope without you. The days have no meaning, while the nights are darker than ever. As you are the light of my life, I can't expect anything but the nights to be dreary and pitch black without you. I need you with me. Everything is falling apart. I understand now how important Potions are to you, and I promise I won't try to stop you from getting your degree – but I want you to continue with the class you've already been taking. As I said, I need you home. And if you don't come home soon, I'll come to Hogwarts and get you. Rest assured that I will. All my love, Ron_

Hermione knew that she didn't have anything to fear – as long as she was inside the castle, Ronald Weasley wouldn't be able to touch her. But after reading his manipulative letter, she was not thinking rationally. She remembered thinking that he must have gotten help from Ginny in an attempt to sound poetic (t_he days have no meaning, while the nights are darker than ever. As you are the light of my life, I can't expect anything but the nights to dreary and pitch black without you –_ as if Ron would have come up with _that_ on his own) when she had been in the process of reading the letter, but now the same old fear of Ron hurting her took over her mind. She grabbed the letters and took of down corridor towards the Dungeons. Snape would be starting his seventh year N.E.W.T class, but she didn't care at the moment. Not one bit. She just needed to be with someone that she felt safe with. She wouldn't be surprised if Ron came sooner rather than later, fully understanding that she wouldn't come home willingly.

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Snape looked up when he heard the door to his classroom open, ready to give an earful to whoever it was disrupting his class. When he saw Hermione, he frowned, knowing that she would never bother him like this unless there was some kind of emergency. She looked frightened and he stopped mid sentence, being at her side in less than five strides. He didn't have to wait long for her to tell him what was wrong. She handed him a letter which he immediately read, his frown deepening as he did. When he was done, he met her gaze and he knew before she said anything what she would ask him.

"Can I stay here?" she wondered quietly, just loud enough for him to hear her. "I won't be in your way."

Snape hesitated for a second. Then he noticed her lower lip tremble, the shaking of her hands and shallowness of her breath. She was more frightened than he had seen her since their first lesson. How could he send her away when her fear was evident all over her face and body? He nearly sighed deeply in frustration – what was it about this girl that made him... _care_ so much? Finally, he gave her a curt nod and saw her tensed shoulders drop in relief. He turned back to the class.

"My apprentice will observe this lesson and assist you with the dangerous items needed for this potion," he said in a no-nonsense type of voice. "Begin."

Snape turned back towards the young woman to fill her in on the lesson she had interrupted.

"They are brewing Exploding Fluid," he said with a small wince. "For some reason, it has never been taken off the standard syllabus for seventh year N.E.W.T classes – I have been on the board to get rid of it for years. There is nearly always an accident."

"How long has it been on the syllabus?" Hermione wondered in curiosity. "And why is it on there to start with?"

Snape swept a watchful eye over the room before he answered her, making sure that everyone was doing what they were supposed to and wasn't watching them.

"It was placed on the syllabus during Grindewald's reign – it was brewed by seventh years and then distributed to families where only one spouse could use magic. This was done until a five year old boy found a vial and blew the whole house up."

Hermione let out a small gasp and he just looked at her for a moment before he continued.

"The ingredients in this potion are all dangerous and highly unstable – it contains fluid from Erumpent horn for Merlin's sake! Yet the school board does not see it fitting to take the time to deal with the syllabus for any of the Potions classes taught at this school," Snape finished, glowering slightly at the board members stupidity and laziness.

Hermione was about to leave it that when she realized that she had no brewed this potion in her seventh year and thus she voiced the "why not?" question out loud. Snape winced slightly, almost dreading her reaction to his answer.

"You were not the only Gryffindor in my seventh year class that year," he told her carefully. "Somehow Longbottom managed to get an O in his Potions O.W.L and therefor he was permitted into my class. I took a spur of the moment decision and let you brew Murtlap Essence instead."

Hermione's eyes had narrowed more and more during his answer. By the time he was finished they were narrowed into tiny slits.

"Are you telling me," Hermione hissed quietly, "that you left out this potion in fear of the possibility that Neville Longbottom might have blown up the classroom?"

Snape sighed and gave her a tired look.

"Did I not just say that the ingredients of this potions are highly unstable? The Erumpent horn alone could kill the entire seventh year class in the explosion alone! It also contains a high dosage of concentrated amatoxin, a poison from what we commonly know as the death cap mushroom – ingest even one drop of the liquid and you are in danger of dying. It's only after it has simmered for three hours that the toxin is neutralized."

He paused for a slight second, giving her some time to process what he was telling her.

"I did not want to take the risk of brewing this potion with Longbottom, solely for the fact that once or twice each lesson he dropped something on the floor, things jumped out of his hands – imagine what would have happened if that one thing he dropped that lesson would have been Erumpent fluid."

Hermione silently considered what he was saying. She knew she couldn't argue with the reasons for why he had not let them brew this potion – she vividly remembered Neville's clumsy and aloof manner in general. She sighed in defeat.

"I understand your reasoning, Professor."

"Good," Snape said with a curt nod. "Now may I ask you to go read the instructions for this potion and then see if anyone requires your assistance?"

Hermione merely nodded and then grabbed one of the seventh year potion books on the shelf behind his desk. The potion was not difficult to brew, she noticed, but just as Snape had said, it contained several unstable ingredients. What was the idiotic board members thinking, keeping this potion on the syllabus? She read the entire recipe three times so that she knew it by heart and then she sprung to her feet, ready to be of assistance if someone needed it. Most of the students had gotten to the point where they were adding the amatoxin, and they were all wearing protective glasses and gloves. As Hermione got to the end of the working bench, she saw that the boy's potion was still light blue instead of bright green as he lifted his hand to add the amatoxin. She hurried forward and firmly gripped his wrist before he dipped the small vial the whole way.

"Hey!" he yelled as he tried to shake her off, the amatoxin bouncing around dangerously inside the vial.

"Stop it, you idiot, before you ruin your potion!" Hermione exclaimed, feeling so annoyed that she didn't hear herself call the boy an idiot.

Snape was at their side in an instant. He gave the potion a glance and then noticed what Hermione had prevented the dimwitted Ackerley from Ravenclaw add to his potion.

"Professor, tell her to let my hand go!" Ackerley demanded indignantly.

"I will only _allow_ her to let your hand go when tilt the vial you are holding in the opposite direction and when you come to realize that you would have ruined your potion had she not interfered."

Ackerley's eyes narrowed, but tilted the vial the other way. Hermione immediately let go of his wrist and gave him such a glowering look that Snape almost felt a bit of pride.

"Read the fourth line on the board out loud for me, if you please, Mr Ackerley," Snape said coldly.

Ackerley sighed and turned his eyes to the board.

"'... the potion should now be light blue. Stir clockwise three times and the potion will turn to green. Add the amatoxin.'"

The boy finished reading the line and winced as he looked back to his potion. It was light blue. How could he have missed that?

"I believe an apology and a 'thank you' to Miss Granger is required before you return to your potion," Snape sneered at him and then strode off to the other side of the room to watch over the other students.

Stewart Ackerley shot Hermione a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding sincere enough for Hermione to rethink that he wasn't so arrogant as she first had thought. "And thank you. Thank you very much for spotting my mistake."

Hermione just looked at him for a moment before she nodded her head, giving him a small smile. He then turned back to his potion and Hermione continued pacing around the room.

"Isn't it sad how some N.E.W.T students aren't fit to be in this class?" a fair-haired, handsome boy said softly as she stopped a moment by his desk, watching him stir his by now deep green potion – he had a very easy and fluid movement.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his at his comment and she found herself looking into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. They were light blue, almost icy. She couldn't decide if she liked them or not. She found it hard to believe that they could ever contain any warmth.

"Everyone makes mistakes," Hermione countered. "It is what the process of learning is all about."

The boy huffed.

"You make a mistake in this classroom and someone might get hurt," he said as he unstoppered the tiny vial she knew contained the Erumpent fluid.

She turned around, too tired to bothered with him anymore.

"Lucky that we have you to look after us today," she heard him say before he patted her gently, but very decidedly on her bum, earning a few snickers from his friends.

Hermione started in shock and then twirled around on the spot, anger blazing in her eyes.

"How _dare _you...!"

She didn't get any further. When she had whirled around, she hadn't been fully aware of that her hands had been flying around. The moment she faced him was the same moment she knocked the vial of Erumpent fluid out of the boy's hand. It flew up in the air and twisted around to the point that the fluid started prickle out. The boy quickly saw what was going to happen and threw himself in the opposite direction as he yelled "GET DOWN!". Hermione, who did not quite have all her wits, being so angry and humiliated as she was, was not as quick. Some of the fluid landed on the bench, on the floor, on her skin and every time drops of the fluid made impact, there was a tiny explosion that left a black mark, or in Hermione case, a nasty flesh wound that stung incredibly.

Snape had by now realized that something was very wrong in the other corner of the room. He strode over towards the commotion, but was still too far away when the vial, still containing three-fourths of what it had from the start, landed in the potion. Erumpent fluid, along with blowing up on impact, did not react well with heat. For this potion, only three drops were needed, and they had to be added one at a time, five minutes apart. So when the potion got the equivalent of forty drops all in one go, it did the only thing it could do – it exploded with a loud POOOF. Snape reacted quicker than what could be considered faster than humanly possible by freezing the potion and containing it in a bubble-like sphere before it splattered over the entire room. Most students had heard the warning from the boy and had quickly ducked down behind or under their working stations. Hermione, however...

She was completely dazed by the ear-shattering explosion and was breathing heavily. After a moment she licked her lips, as she had felt that they were sticky and moist at the same time. A bitter taste filled her whole mouth and she swallowed in an attempt to get rid of it. She felt her throat burn painfully. _What the...?_ And then she suddenly realized what the moistness on her lips had been – the potion. She gasped in terror. Snape's eyes locked with hers for a full second before she quite suddenly started swaying. He rushed forward and by the time he reached her, she fainted in his arms – the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious was the terrified look in the Potion Master's eyes.

"Anyone who has gotten parts of the potion on themselves needs to be escorted to the infirmary immediately!" Snape bellowed. "Everyone out of here NOW and do not touch ANYTHING!"

The students scampered out and as soon as everyone had left the room, he scooped Hermione up in his arms and sealed the classroom with a complicated locking spell so that no one could get in beside him. He sent his doe Patronus ahead of him to inform Poppy that Hermione had ingested unfinished Explosion Fluid and then he rushed off as quickly as he could to the infirmary.

Poppy had already managed get out various potions which were neatly set up on a table with wheels on it. As soon as Snape entered, she levitated the young witch out of his arms and put her carefully on the bed. She waved her wand, running diagnostic spells, checking her pulse and blood levels and finally concluded:

"We have about three minutes before her heart stops," she said, trying to sound calm and professional even though a voice inside of her was screaming at to not start panicking as Hermione started twitching violently. "There's no time to administer the healing potions – together they work much too slowly."

Snape immediately reached inside his robes and pulled out the bezoar he always carried around with him. He gave it a weary look before he caught Poppy's eye.

"I was afraid you would say that," he murmured before he lifted Hermione up into a sitting position, pried her mouth open and shoved the stone as far down her throat as he could.

He gently messaged her throat until he felt her swallow the stone and then he put her back down on the pillow. Poppy kept a close watch on the new data the diagnostic spells were creating.

"The bezoar will work for the time being, but Severus... We have a long day before us if we are to save her life. How much of the potion entered her system?"

Snape closed his eyes to better recall the scene that had caused Hermione Granger to end up in infirmary. She had licked her lips – after that she had gotten that terrified look in her eyes and afterwards she fainted. But there was more to it. As she had been the closest to the potion, some of it had splattered on her skin. And not to forget, an almost full vial of Erumpent Fluid had landed in the potion. Who knew how much of the concentrated liquid had ended up in her system?

"I don't think the amatoxin is the main problem. This potion should have three drops of Erumpent Fluid... I can estimate that around forty drops landed in that potion. It's burning her, even though she only ingested a few drops. It splashed on her skin as well."

Poppy's eyes widened.

"Severus, I need you to floo Minerva – inform her of what has happened and have her floo the burn unit at St Mungo's. We are going to need a special device they have and we are going to need Minerva's permission. While you are gone, I'm going to bathe her thoroughly."

With one last look at the unconscious witch, Snape swirled out of the infirmary, clock billowing after him in true Snapish fashion.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

Later that evening, Snape was helplessly watching a machine of some sort control Hermione's breathing. Every second breath, it puffed out an almost clear smoke that the she greedily inhaled.

"It's a a mix of Murtlap Essence and ice particles," said the healer that had brought the machine over. "The Essence heals the cuts and wounds the Erumpent Fluid is creating from the inside, while the ice particles obviously deals with the intense burning. We can only administer Murtlap Essence for burns on the inside of the body if it is vaporized."

Snape had understood all of this without much trouble. The machine, however, was a mystery to him. It looked liked a muggle contraption, but it obviously didn't run on electricity since it worked without a problem even though they were inside Hogwarts.

"Oh, it is loosely based on a muggle invention that helps patients breath," the healer explained. "The tube you saw me put down her throat is something muggle doctors call intubation. We take no credit for that - however, the contraption that the tube is connected to, is purely magical."

Snape was about to ask what he meant by that, but at the same moment, Hermione started convulsing. The healer frowned in confusion, but Snape immediately understood.

"Poppy!" he shouted and a second later the matron from her office. "We need to administer the antidotes for the amatoxin _now_ – this machine must have made the bezoar dissolve quicker than normally."

The Potion Master snapped his eyes to the healer.

"Take the tube out of her throat, now."

The healer shook his head.

"I can't do that – it hasn't filtered out the all fluid yet. If I take it out now, she might die."

"If we don't get those potions into her system as soon as possible, the amatoxin will kill her anyway!" Snape snarled furiously. "Get that tube out of her now!"

The healer hesitated and glanced at Poppy. When she nodded, he sighed in defeat and quickly got the tube out of Hermione's throat. As soon as it was out, Snape shoved the healer out of his way and held out his hand towards Poppy for the first potion. They worked quickly to get the potions down Hermione's throat and by the time they had given her the last one, she wasn't convulsing quite so violently anymore. However, after a few minutes she started gasping, as if she was in pain.

"I need to get that tube back in," the healer said matter-of-factly, shooting the Potion Master a look. "If I may, Professor Snape?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at the impudence of the younger man, but immediately backed away to let the healer do his job. He hovered closely by the bed to be able to see what the man was doing and if he was about to do anything that could harm her. His promise to Potter meant that he could trust no one he wasn't on familiar terms with when it came to this witch and thus he hadn't left her side – not even once. He told himself that it was that promise, and that promise alone, that had kept him there all day. The stab of fear he had felt in his heart when Poppy had said they had three minutes before her heart stopped, had been a reaction to Potter's wrath if she died under his watch – not because he actually cared for the chit.

Snape's eyes traveled up to Hermione's face. The wrinkled lines she had gotten on her face when she had been in pain were gone. She looked quite relaxed now. He wondered if what had happened today would set her back in her rehabilitation – he hoped not, she had already accomplished so much. He reminded himself once again that this was not because he cared about her. It was just a waste to the whole wizarding society that a witch like Hermione Granger was unable to control her magic. He did not care about her as a person, he was sure of that. He hadn't been in the infirmary all day because he cared, he was just there to make sure the amatoxin didn't progress any further into her system. He clenched his jaw for a moment and then sighed quietly in defeat. Who was he trying to kid? He knew that somewhere deep down he _did_ care... But very deep down. And just a little.

HP * H P* H P* HP * HP

Hermione woke up coughing forcefully the next morning and sprung up into a sitting position. She heard someone call out "POPPY!" while she desperately tried to smoother the attack on her lungs.

"Take deep breaths, Hermione, and let the attack take its course," Poppy told her gently. "It's a side effect of the vaporized Murtlap Essence you've been inhaling most of yesterday and the night."

So Hermione continued coughing and let her eyes wander about the room. When she saw Snape standing on the other side of her bed, she got so startled that she stopped coughing straight away. Snape almost looked amused.

"I'm glad I could be of some assistance to you, Miss Granger," he said with a smirk. "However, I would have preferred not having you so startled to see me that it killed such a vicious attack."

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"Sorry, Professor," she rasped out. "Just wasn't expecting to see you."

Snape watched as Poppy checked her over, running her wand up and down along the young woman's entire body.

"There is nothing of the potion left inside of you, dear child," Poppy said with gentle smile. "Are you in any discomfort?"

"My throat kind of hurts," she said, sounding so hoarse that neither adult would have needed that information. "And my whole body kind of... aches."

Poppy nodded in understanding.

"That's to be expected, I'm afraid. I can give you a potion for the pain or a sleeping potion so that your body can recover without you experiencing it."

Hermione shook her head.

"No potions. And I want to be awake," was all she said and then she tried to swallow, which was easier said than done.

She was handed a glass of water from Snape and she took it and drank from it greedily.

"Careful, Miss Granger. Take small sips."

She didn't hesitate to do as he instructed and when she had finished the whole glass, he took it from her and put it aside.

"Miss Granger, I need to know what happened."

"Surely that can wait, Severus!" Poppy admonished him and gave the Potion Master a glare. "She needs rest and to refrain from speaking."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"I was merely going to ask her to think of the incident so that I could collect the memory and watch in my Pensieve. That way, she does not need to speak and she will get more rest as she will not need to go through with the tedious task of telling me the story."

Poppy only sighed and waved her hand, meaning "do whatever you must and then be out of my sight".

"I'm ready," Hermione said to Snape and he nodded, producing a vial out of thin air.

When he was done, he simply looked at Hermione for a moment. She looked back, somewhat confused at his intense stare.

"I am... glad that you are out of danger," he said quietly.

Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise. He started turning away when she stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

"I'm sure you helped save my life, Professor," she whispered, wanting to spare her throat the burning that talking caused. "Thank you."

Snape inclined his head, but said nothing more. Their eyes locked for a moment and then Snape left in a hurry, leaving Hermione in the capable hands of Madame Pomfrey.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

AN: Hope you liked it. Like most chapters with this story, it was quite hard to get through some of the passages. I'll try to update more often. =)


	11. Breakfast in the Infirmary

Chapter Ten

Breakfast in the Infirmary

Snape knew it was kind of late to be resolving this issue tonight, but for once he didn't care one bit about barging in to Headmistress McGonagall's office. It was nearly ten o'clock, but the Headmistress and the Head Boy and Girl would still be awake. The Potion Master was absolutely furious, ashamed and disgusted after he had seen Hermione's memory and thus he had to fix this before he went to bed.

Snape muttered the password to the gargoyle and stalked angrily up the stairs. Minerva was already waiting for him, sitting by her desk with a sleepy look in her eyes. He gave her a piercing look.

"Are you alright, Minerva?" he wondered carefully, his anger leaving him for a moment, not at all liking the evident tiredness on her face, nor the yellowish tint to her skin.

Minerva gave him a small smile.

"Yes, Severus, I am fine. I am merely starting to feel my age."

Snape didn't like the sound of that and briskly walked around the desk and got down on his knees beside her. He took a firm grip of her wrist, checking to see that her pulse was still strong, as he did his best to ignore the look of affection he knew she was bestowing him at the moment.

"I would like to start you on a potion I gave to Albus for several years," he told her as he got to his feet. "It would do you nothing but good."

Minerva gave him a searching look before she nodded slowly.

"Very well," she agreed. "Now what is it you wanted to resolve before this day is over?"

Snape crossed his arms over his chest.

"I have seen Miss Granger's memory of what happened in the N.E.W.T. class today and we need to punish the perpetrator immediately."

He swiftly told her what had transpired in the room and then added his view of what punishment the boy with the ice blue eyes should receive.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Severus?" Minerva wondered, astounded that he wanted the punishment to be so severe. "He is after all a Slytherin and the first..."

"Yes, I'm sure," Snape said curtly. "I will make no excuses for anyone who behaves like that in my classroom."

The next moment, the door opened to present Head Boy Marcus Bletchley and Head Girl Laura Madley, both looking slightly confused as to why they had been called here at this hour.

"You are here due to a matter that will affect you both," Minerva started, her back straitening out a bit as she spoke. "Severus, why don't you take it from here."

Snape paced back and forth a bit, thinking his decision over one last time, before he strode up to the Head Boy. The young man's posture stiffened, but he didn't look away from the Potion Master, knowing that he looked more terrifying than he actually was.

"What you did in my classroom today was despicable, Mr Bletchley," he said dangerously low.

Bletchley's eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"Do not act as if you don't understand what I am talking about!" Snape bellowed, his anger flaring up for real at the boy who's impudence nearly had cost Hermione's life. "I have seen Miss Granger's memory of the entire incident! I have never been so ashamed of a Slytherin's actions before!"

The young man was now cowering slightly under his Head of House, a look a fear in his eyes. Laura Madley was merely looking confused, as she did not take N.E.W.T potions and had therefor no idea what Snape was talking about.

"Have you any idea of how close Miss Granger was of dying?" Snape continued, and before he got any further, Bletchley ground out;

"Who cares? She's just a mudblood anyway."

Before he knew what he was doing, Snape's hand was swinging up towards Bletchley's face. Only Minerva's "SEVERUS!" made him halt, and he quickly dropped his hand, ashamed at himself for almost slapping a student. He took a deep breath to settle his outraged feelings and then took a few steps back from the boy.

"If we already hadn't decided upon your punishment, that would have been the final straw," Snape said quietly, looking straight into the boy's eyes – the icy blue eyes held a defiant look. "You are stripped of your title as Head Boy."

Marcus Bletchley gasped in shock and Laura's jaw dropped in surprise. Neither of them could remember a time when any Head Boy or Girl had been stripped of their titles.

"You can't do that!" Bletchley cried in outrage as soon as he had found his voice.

"I can and I have," Snape said dispassionately and then took a last minute decision about a second punishment. "And you will not be permitted back into my class."

Bletchley was by now looking very pale.

"But, potions is my best subject," he said, sounding hurt and pleading at the same time. "I want to become a potions researcher."

Snape did not take any pity on the young man.

"You should have thought about that before you decided to grope my apprentice, Mr Bletchley. Not only was it disrespectful, but we were working on Exploding Fluid – a potion so dangerous that you should have realized that you should have done nothing but concentrate on your work! What on earth did you think would happen? Did you think that Miss Granger would be pleased by feeling your hand on herself?"

"No," Bletchley muttered, but the look on his face betrayed his true feelings about it – he clearly believed that Hermione would have been flattered.

Snape shook his head in disgust.

"Since you obviously have no respect for the dangers of working with potions, I have no regrets about throwing you out of my classroom. You are a danger to the rest of the students and to yourself."

Bletchley looked as if he was ready to cry. It seemed as if Laura wanted to reach out and comfort him, but refrained from doing so. Snape then turned to McGonagall and her lips were pursed, as if she believed that his second punishment was too severe. However, what was done was done. McGonagall turned to Laura.

"Miss Madley, I need to you report here tomorrow after breakfast and help me appoint a new Head Boy. Here's a list of candidates" – she held out a piece of parchment for the girl to take – "that was put together before term started. I would advise you to look at it before you retire for the evening."

Miss Madley nodded and then met the Headmistress's gaze.

"Excuse me for asking, Headmistress, but why would you need my help? Aren't Head Boys and Girls just appointed by you?"

"Quite right, Miss Madley, but since term is already half way through, I thought it best to find someone you would be comfortable working with," Minerva answered, and the girl nodded in understanding. "You are both dismissed."

As soon as they had left, Snape turned to Minerva to hear what she had to say before he himself returned to his quarters.

"Wasn't that a little harsh, Severus?" she wondered gently.

"No," he answered, going straight to the point. "I believe that anyone who cannot appreciate how dangerous working in a Potions lab can be, has no business being there in the first place. Miss Granger was three minutes from dying, Minerva, and he didn't even care – he showed me no remorse. I do not regret my decision."

McGonagall sighed, but couldn't help but to agree with him. As he bade her good night, she could see the anxious look on his face and she smiled a little as he turned his back away from her and strode out of the office. Perhaps Albus wasn't as dense as she first had believed.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

Hermione woke next morning feeling quite refreshed – she had had a full night's sleep without dreams and the burning in her throat wasn't quite so intense now. She opened her eyes and saw Dobby setting up breakfast – toast, marmalade, cinnamon buns and steaming, fresh tea.

"Hello, Dobby," she said cheerfully and smiled as he started, quickly bowing to her in greeting.

"Nice to see that Miss Hermione has woken," he squeaked and then continued with his task.

She watched him fuss over making everything look neat and pretty, but then she frowned – he was laying at plates, cups and knifes for two people.

"Dobby, is someone dining with me?"

Dobby looked at her with wide eyes and nodded.

"Yes, Miss Hermione. You will be joined by..."

"... me."

The silky voice made Hermione jump. She had been so focused on Dobby that she hadn't even noticed Professor Snape enter the infirmary.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," Snape said as he slightly bowed his head in greeting.

Hermione jammed her mouth shut with some difficulty.

"G-good morning, Professor," she stammered, still shocked at his sudden entry.

Neither said a word as Dobby finished, but the elf soon disappeared with a small bow and then with a 'pop' he was gone. Snape pulled up a chair to the little table and sat down, ignoring the curious look on Hermione's face. She watched him as he poured them cups of steaming tea and then tilted her head in astonishment when she saw that he added one piece of sugar into her cup.

"Close your mouth, Miss Granger," Snape snapped, but he had a small smirk playing on his lips.

He picked up a piece of toast and started spreading it with marmalade.

"I was a spy, Miss Granger, if you remember. It lies in my nature to be observant of the smallest of things, such as how a person takes their tea," he offered in explanation.

Hermione nodded stupidly and then hunched forward a bit to reach her cup. She winced and then let out a cough as the hot liquid burned her throat. Snape's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Still in pain, Miss Granger?"

"Only when I drink hot tea," she gasped out and then she quickly reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Not bothering to waste time filling a glass, she lifted the pitcher to her lips and drank in small sips until the burning pain was nothing more than a dull ache. Only after she had put the pitcher down did she realize that Snape actually looked amused.

"Sorry about that," she muttered, her eyes downcast. "I just..."

"Good heavens, Miss Granger, why are you apologizing to me about soothing your pain?" Snape demanded and then winced slightly as she shrank back at his tone.

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"Unless you have done something directly offensive towards me, I forbid you to apologize to me."

Hermione's mouth dropped again and she simply stared at him for a moment.

"Close your mouth, Miss Granger," he said once more, his smirk almost transforming into a tiny small. "And eat something. You need to get your strength back."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both eating toast with marmalade and drinking their tea. Snape had put a cooling charm on the tea, and even though Hermione preferred it scorching hot, this was the only way for her to drink it this morning without being in excruciating pain.

"Sir?" Hermione suddenly said, breaking the silence of the Infirmary.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he wondered, as he poured himself another cup of tea.

She hesitated a moment. When Snape narrowed his eyes in warning, she hurriedly continued.

"Why did you come all the way up here to have breakfast with me?" she inquired, her eyes firmly glued to her hands.

Snape sighed inaudibly. Yes, she did have to ask him that question, didn't she? The one question he couldn't quite answer himself. He put the teapot back on the table and then turned his gaze towards the young witch. Why had he come?

"I felt the need to make certain that you were on the mend," he improvised, "for Mr Potter's benefit. I have, of course, already written him about the event and he has warn–, I mean, informed me of his intention to come visit you tomorrow."

Hermione had let out a laugh at his little slip, not sure if it was intentional or not. It probably was, since the former spy always chose his words very carefully. Snape glared at her until she quieted down.

"Also, I wanted to inform you what happened after I reviewed your memory of the event that landed you in the hospital wing," he concluded, feeling as if these were two legitimate reasons for him having breakfast with her.

Hermione gave him a searching look.

"So, it's not because you've grown accustomed to my presence in the Great Hall, and simply couldn't bare the idea to eat without me?" she wondered innocently and teasingly at the same time, her eyes suddenly wide with mischief.

Snape's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden change in her demeanor and what happened next was quite out of his control – he let out a small, but genuine laugh. Hermine started, staring in awe at the Professor, relishing in the sudden happy expression on his face. It made him look younger and carefree, and the sound of his barking laugh was like music to her ears – being around Snape for three weeks meant she hadn't been around much laughing and the revelation that he was capable of laughing excited her immensely.

"Don't be ridiculous, Miss Granger," Snape said, trying to hide the smile playing on his lips, as soon as he had calmed down. "I am merely here as a favor to Mr Potter – I made him quite an important promise, as you might recall."

"Yes, Professor, I do recall your promise," Hermione with a grin. "However, I don't believe that Harry meant for you to be forced to have breakfast in the infirmary."

They looked at each for a moment and then Snape lowered his cup, revealing what was left of the smile for a second. Then he schooled his features, the mask of the snarky Potions Master coming back in its rightful place.

"No matter, Miss Granger," he said briskly. "I want to inform you of what happened to the perpetrator that, through his disrespectful behavior, landed you where you are now."

Hermione nodded, her expression turning solemn as she waited for him to continue.

"The boy who deiced to grope you, Miss Granger, was a Slytherin called Marcus Bletchley. He was also the first Head Boy from Slytherin this school has seen in a decade."

"Was?" Hermione wondered, her eyes wide and worried.

Snape nodded curtly.

"He was stripped of his title late last night," he said and glowered slightly at the thought of the stupid boy. "Minerva and the Head Girl are choosing a new Head Boy as we speak."

Hermione looked tormented.

"I caused a Slytherin Head Boy to lose his position," she murmured, her voice full of regret.

Snape slammed his fist down on the table and Hermione jumped, her eyes getting a frightened tint for a second until Snape held up his hands in apology. She averted her gaze to her hands, still feeling guilty.

"Never think like that again, Miss Granger," Snape growled, the fierceness of his voice startling her enough to get her to snap her eyes up to meet his.

She looked uncertain, and then voiced another concern that popped into her head.

"Even if I don't think like that again, Professor, he might. And the rest of the Slytherin's might. What if they try to get revenge?"

Her question came out as a whisper, her brown orbs now full of worry. Snape looked taken aback – clearly this was something he hadn't taken into consideration himself. He of all people knew how the mind of a hotheaded Slytherin worked.

"I shall speak to them all tonight, Miss Granger – make them understand that any intentional harm to you will lead to expulsion."

"I don't want to be the cause of someone getting expelled from Hogwarts, Professor!"

Snape's eyes narrowed, wondering why the thought of a student – a student that had treated her with disrespect and open contempt – getting expelled from Hogwarts bothered her so.

"Be as that may, Miss Granger, he will only have himself to blame. Should he cause you further harm after my warning, it will be no ones fault but his own, just as it is his own fault for not being allowed back into my classroom."

Hermione gasped in shock, remembering the boy's fluid movement as he stirred the potion he was carefully working on – she knew without a doubt that he was good at potions, that he enjoyed working with potions a great deal.

"Do not pity him, Miss Granger. Had he any respect for the dangers of working in a potions lab, he never would have done what he did in the first place. Perhaps if he had shown any trace of remorse, I might not have been so harsh. However, he did not care whatsoever about you nearly dying. Thus, he will not be welcomed back."

Snape gave her a piercing look until she nodded. Then he checked his watch and instantly sighed deeply.

"Why did I ever let Minerva talk me into coming back? Haven't I taught enough dimwitted first years to last me a lifetime?"

Hermione could tell that he was mainly speaking to himself, but couldn't help giggling slightly – when Snape raised one eyebrow, she immediately fell silent.

"I will come back later, Miss Granger, to check on your progress."

Before Hermione had a chance to respond, he twirled on the spot and strode out in a quick pace, his cloak billowing behind him.

HP * HP * HP * HP

When Hermione woke next morning, she felt much like her old self. Her body was barely aching, her throat felt more or less normal and she didn't feel nearly as weak as she had the day before. She heard, before she saw, that Dobby was setting up breakfast again, and she vaguely wondered if he was setting the table for one or two people. She finally opened her eyes and sat up in the bed.

"Good morning, Miss Hermione! Dobby made waffles especially for you this morning."

Hermione smiled in delight, her stomach growling loudly in anticipation of the delicious waffles she knew he was capable of making. Normally, she was never a big eater in the morning, but today she felt starved. Her mouth watered as the smell of the waffles reached her nose.

"That looks absolutely wonderful, Dobby," she said and patted the elf affectionately on the head. "Thank you."

Dobby looked ready to burst into tears of delight, but managed to bow gracefully before he quickly disappeared.

"Waffles, Miss Granger? The elf surely must like you a great deal."

Snape's voice made her jump, as always, and she growled in frustration at her own reaction.

"Good morning, Professor," she said, composing herself, as she scooted closer to the edge of the bed, drawing the blanket of her so that she could sit properly, her feet dangling a foot or two from the floor.

"You look much better today, Miss Granger," Snape said as he sat down and immediately starting pouring tea for them both. "Which is a very good thing, as Mr Potter will be arriving in less than half an hour."

Hermione's whole face lit up at that. The next moment she cut a piece of the first waffle and when it entered her mouth, a soft moan came from her throat. Snape's hand froze for a second over her tea cup, giving her an inquiring look before he came to his senses and dropped the sugar into her cup.

"Sorry, sir, but I haven't had waffles in years," she explained, waffle still in her mouth which she now was chewing slowly, savoring the flavor.

Then she stopped in the middle of chewing as she noticed that Snape still only had toast and marmalade on his plate.

"Would you like some waffles, Professor?" she offered politely.

Snape snorted at the question, rolling his eyes.

"No, thank you, Miss Granger. I am a very light eater in the mornings. Even if that was not the case, I would never dream of stealing your waffles – the elf made them _especially_ for you, if you recall?"

Hermione couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic or if he somehow actually did find it kind of Dobby of making such a special breakfast. She looked at him uncertainly as he started spreading orange marmalade over a piece of toast. In the last week it had become easier for her to try to decipher the true meanings behind the things that came from the snarky Potions Master. And Snape encouraged her to do it, having her guess every now and then if he was being serious or sarcastic. What he possibly got out of it, she had no idea, but she enjoyed every little thing that made her understand him better. She started chewing again and then shook his comment off.

"So what news do you have to share with me this morning, since you once again came all the way up here to have breakfast with the insufferable know-it-all?" she wondered, her tone light.

Snape smirked, not answering for quite some time as he took small bites of his toast.

"I simply wanted to personally bring you the good news that the Golden Boy is coming to visit you," he finally said, the sarcasm now evident in his voice. "And since the journey up here is so tediously long, why not have a refreshing breakfast upon arrival?"

Hermione looked amused as he finished, but was smart enough to refrain herself from commenting. It was obvious to her that he simply came to keep her company, or that he wanted the company himself, having gotten used to her presence over the weeks. She thought it was very sweet of him, something she, of course, never would utter out loud – he would obviously hex her for putting the word "sweet" in the same sentence as "Severus Snape". They ate a few moments in a comfortable silence. It was Hermione that finally spoke.

"Professor?"

He met her gaze steadily, his tea cup rising up to his lips.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione winced slightly, getting seriously annoyed at hearing "Miss Granger" in almost every sentence he uttered.

"Can you please consider calling me 'Hermione', sir? It's getting really old, hearing you say my last name all the time."

She caught the look of surprise in his eyes before they narrowed, and he tilted his head slightly as he gave her a searching look. After a moment or two, he finally gave her a curt nod.

"I will _consider_ it," he said, being very clear that this was nothing he would start doing simply on a whim.

Hermione just gave him a small smile in return and then voiced the question she had first been meaning to ask him.

"How much longer will I be here?"

"Until Madame Pomfrey decides to let you leave," he answered right away. "And telling her that you feel 'alright', will not be enough for her to let you leave. She will demand evidence."

Hermione sighed deeply, knowing that Poppy would most likely want to keep her under observation for several more days.

"Problem is, sir, that I am bored."

Snape nearly choked on his tea. That was the last thing he would have expected to hear her say. He put his cup down on the little table as he processed this new information. As he thought about it, he realized that such an intelligent witch naturally would be bored, being couped up like this with nothing to do. He wished now that he would have had the wits to at least bring her a book.

"What would you like to do then, Miss Granger? Shall I have Dobby fetch you a book from the library?"

Hermione pondered the question and then shook her head.

"I don't feel like reading, sir," she answered and then folded her hands in her lap. "I feel like I'm wasting time up here. Is there anything useful I can do for you from this bed?"

"Only grading papers," he told her, thinking that she must prefer a book over that.

But Hermione's face brightened in anticipation.

"If you trust me enough to let me grade the first years papers, sir, I would _love_ to do it!"

The witch was full of surprises today, Snape mused. She would _love_ to grade his papers? Very well, he would certainly allow her to do it, if she so clearly wanted to. It wasn't as if he enjoyed doing it himself.

"I'll bring them up after lunch," he agreed and then the sound of the door opening to the hospital wing interrupted them.

Snape sighed heavily as he saw Harry Potter striding towards them and he stood from his chair. With a small bow of his head to Hermione, he left, muttering a greeting to Harry on the way.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry greeted as he kicked his shoes off and climbed up into the bed.

"Yes, thanks to Professor Snape's quick thinking, I will be just fine," she answered him and then opened her arms to let him in into her embrace.

He flopped down, lying half on her stomach and half on the bed.

"Did he tell you everything?"

She really didn't feel like explaining anything, but she would have to if Snape had left something out.

"I think so," came Harry's muffled reply, as his face was buried into her cover. "The guy was demoted and thrown out of N.E.W.T class, is the last thing I heard."

"That sounds about right," Hermione said as she gently pulled her fingers through Harry's messy hair. "Now tell me about you, Harry. How are things?"

She felt him sigh and a moment later his face was visible to her – he placed his chin on her stomach so that he was able to look at her while he spoke.

"Ginny's mad at me, for not being angry with you," he said with a small wince. "She asked me to help her make a Howler, but when I refused she understood that I am on your side. And she's furious that I won't tell her why."

Hermione let out a small sigh herself, wondering if maybe telling the Weasley's should be done sooner, rather than later. Even if they didn't believe her, they might understand why she wasn't responding to their letters, why Harry was on her side and why she had suddenly up and left Ron. Maybe they would leave her alone if they were told. She didn't care much at the moment if they believed her – she was just tired of having to defend herself against them.

The two best friend's stayed in each other arms until Harry sadly announced that he had to get back to school. Once again, Hermione made him promise to stay clear of Ron, and only to come to Hogwarts if he was called for. Harry grudgingly agreed and then took his leave after planting a kiss on her forehead. Hermione checked the clock on the night table, exhaling sharply in annoyance. It was only nine o'clock. What on earth was she supposed to do until after lunch?

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AN: Please review! I always love to hear anything input my readers might have.


	12. Animagi and new dangers

_AN: Sorry it's been so long! I wish I had a good excuse, but life has just been too much at the moment. My boyfriend of five years asked me to marry him and we will be moving in together in a month. Along with that, I'm busy as ever in school. I'll try to be better, I promise! _

_The animagi theory in this chapter is of my own contraption – I don't claim to know how J.K. Rowling meant for the transformation to be achieved, but here's my idea._

Chapter Eleven

Animagi and new dangers

Along with the first year's potions essays, Snape brought Hermione a book about animagi, thinking that this branch of magic would be good for her to research, as it might be helpful for her magical control. Her eyes lit up as she saw the title and she lunged forward to grab it.

"May I ask you to read the book only after you have graded the essays?" he asked her, holding the book out of her reach. "If you are to do this for me, Miss Granger, I need you do have them finished by the end of the day."

Hermione pouted as she slumped back against the headboard of the bed. Snape found himself staring at her mouth for a moment and then quickly snapped his eyes back to hers when the pout disappeared.

"Oh, fine," she grudgingly agreed.

Snape placed the book on the nightstand and then waved his wand over the bed, making a small table appear out of thin air that rested on either side of her legs. A quill and some ink came next and then another small table appeared on the floor next to her bed, where he put the essays.

"Need I remind you of how restrictive I am with unnecessary praise?" he wondered and was pleased to see her shake her head. "Good. Just point out mistakes and then add the grade at the bottom."

"I will, sir. Thank you."

Snape handed her the first essay, rolling his eyes slightly at her gratitude over something so mundane as grading essays.

"Enjoy," he said with a smirk and then he inclined his head before he left.

Hermione watched him leave, sighing softly when he was gone, missing his company already. She was really starting to enjoy being around him and she felt a bit empty when she wasn't. He was so different now, compared to how he had been during her years at Hogwarts. She supposed that serving two masters and being forced to play a role for so long had caused the Potions Master to become the severe, grumpy person he had been during the war. He seemed to be more gentle now, at least towards her, and he had shown her kindness in the last couple of weeks. At the same time, there was darkness hanging over him – he was clearly not happy, even though he had survived the war and was now free to do whatever he pleased. Perhaps that was the problem, Hermione mused. Maybe he hadn't expected to survive the war – maybe he had longed for death to release him of the pains living had caused him.

She sighed again and shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind in order to focus on the task at hand. As she started reading the first few essays, she quickly came to realize that Snape might have a point when he said that his students were dunderheads. Not only did a lot of them have trouble spelling, their grammar was poor and their vocabulary was sorely lacking. Granted, they were only first year's, but surely eleven year olds should know how spell cauldron correctly? So far she had seen "coldron", "couldroun" and "kauldrone" (she had snorted out a laugh at the last one). She ended up giving most of the essays A's and P's, but towards the end she was able to give two students E's. Finally, two students who showed promise in the field of Potions.

As soon as she was done with the essays, she started devouring the book Snape had brought her about animagi. Prior to this she had only known that animagi was a mix of meditation and transfiguration. Now she knew that these went along with a potion that needed to be taken before the first attempt to change. The potion alone would be enough to scare away most of the students at Hogwarts who would try to attempt this without the help of a teacher or a supervisor – it was without a doubt the most complicated potion she had ever seen. However, before even trying to brew the potion, you had to master meditation in order to find your inner animal, which held some relation to your personality. Along with that, you had to be outstanding in transfiguration, which Hermione luckily was.

When Snape checked in on her later that evening, she had plowed her way through half of the four hundred page book. Snape could hardly mask his surprise.

"And you marked all the essays?"

"Of course, Professor," she said as she closed the heavy book and put it on the nightstand. "Would you like to check them?"

His eyes narrowed slightly at the sweet tone of her voice. Had she been too lenient in her grading? He made a mental note to check them before he turned in for the evening.

"No," he said curtly and then swiftly changed the subject. "And how are you liking the book?"

"Becoming an animagus is something I would like to explore in more detail," she answered, her eyes getting an excited gleam. "Even though the war is over, I'm sure it's dead useful."

Snape nodded as he sat himself down on the chair by her bed.

"It is," he said with a smirk, thinking back on the times he had gotten out of trouble thanks to his animagus form.

Hermione sat up a little straighter.

"You are an animagus, sir?" she wondered, not quite being able to hide her surprise.

He almost looked insulted at her shock.

"Of course, Miss Granger – animagi is a branch of magic I learned to control in my youth. The first time I transformed I was a sixth year and even though I was surprised to learn what animal I was, it has been very helpful. No one knew. Not even my two masters."

She gave him a searching look.

"If you don't want anyone to know that you are animagi, why are you telling me know?"

Snape shrugged a shoulder and Hermione marveled at how strange it was to see him do this – he always used words to express what he wanted to say, not gestures and facial expressions.

"The war is over and my masters are dead. What point is there to keep it secret any longer? Besides, I have merely told you that I am animagi – I have _not_ told you what animal I can turn into."

Hermione sighed, realizing without difficulty what he meant by that.

"And you're not going to tell me either," she stated, sounding both annoyed and disappointed.

Snape smirked at her tone, finding it surprisingly satisfying that she was so keen and interested in finding out more about him.

"Not today, anyway."

He made a pause, carefully thinking through his proposition before uttering it out loud, making sure he wanted to offer her this chance. He noticed that she was back to pouting and once again he found himself starting at her mouth a moment longer than he perhaps should have. A moment later, he blinked and stood up, turning to look out the window over the grounds of Hogwarts. It was not prudent for him to be staring at her mouth. Not at all. He cleared his throat and then turned his head just enough to be able to look into her eyes.

"Miss Granger, would you like for me to speak with the Headmistress about you becoming animagi?" he wondered and she immediately lit up.

He felt a strange squeeze around his heart and was absolutely startled and angry with himself when he realized this _squeeze_ had occurred simply because he had found a way to make her happy. He recoiled from the thought, not understanding at all where that had come from.

"Oh, would you, Professor?" was her only reply, her smile still so brilliant that he almost wanted to look away from it – such a smile should not be bestowed upon him, but saved for those who took pleasure in her happiness.

Then he, of course, realized that he did find pleasure in seeing her happy. That damned squeeze was proof of that. _Then it should be reserved for those who find _greater_ pleasure in her happiness_, he reasoned with himself, knowing full well that Harry Potter most likely got a smile like that every time the duo were together.

"I will," he said curtly, suddenly wanting to leave the infirmary very badly. "I must take your leave now, Miss Granger."

She just nodded, knowing that he most likely still had more work to do before he retired for the evening, and bade him good night. Snape strode of, confused at the conflicting emotions twirling around inside of him. He wanted her to smile like that to him, just as he _didn't_ want her to smile like that at him. But more than anything else, he didn't want to wait and long for the moments when she did smile that brilliant smile – he was the snarky, self-centered Potions Master, for Merlin's sake! How was it possible that Hermione Granger had been able to make him _long_ to see her smile in the short time she had been here? How had she been able to get him to care so much?

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The next morning brought Hermione good news. As soon as Poppy noticed that the she was awake, the medi-witch ran a last diagnostic spell over her.

"You are free to leave," Poppy said gently, a fond smile playing on her lips. "But take it easy today as well, Hermione."

"I will, Poppy," the young witch promised as she scrambled out of bed, quickly changing to the normal robes McGonagall had brought her.

She wondered what time it was – glancing out the window she knew it must still be early. The sun had barely risen over the grounds. She bounced off down the corridors to the Great Hall and turning a corner she bounced straight into Snape. He caught her quickly and pulled her into his chest, letting out a small little laugh.

"You really are the clumsiest witch I have ever met," he mused and then let her go, schooling his features back to normal. "I see Poppy has freed you from the jail that was the infirmary bed."

Hermione was still a bit dazed at what had just transpired – if she didn't know any better, she would say that Professor Snape just had hugged her and laughed at the same time. No, it had been unintentional, she decided, choosing not to over think his actions.

"She did indeed," she finally said, "but ordered me to take it easy today as well."

He nodded once, seemingly agreeing with Poppy on that note.

"I would suggest that you take some time to yourself for the rest of the day, and we can start anew again tomorrow," he said and motioned for her to follow him down the corridors. "I spoke with Minerva, and she would be happy to help you with the animagi process."

Hermione let out a little squeal of delight as she clapped her hands a few times. Snape raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to be amused or appalled at the noise she had just made.

"But she demands that we first get back on track with the work we have been doing for your magic. That is our first priority."

"Of course, sir, I understand that. Besides, I won't be able to transform without being in full control of my magic."

He nodded and then suddenly stopped.

"Are you hungry, Miss Granger?" he wondered and saw her nod in reply. "Would you like to dine in your own quarters or in the Great Hall?"

She thought about it for a moment. It didn't matter much to her where she ate, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the Slytherin who had been so disrespectful towards her or the rest of the school.

"My quarters," she finally answered.

Snape, who had been expecting this answer, nodded and then led her down the path to the dungeons.

"You did a good job grading the essays," he said suddenly and Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise. "Is it not fascinating how much trouble a word like 'cauldron' can cause?"

Hermione let out a laugh, still relishing in the unexpected compliment he had given her. All too soon they were standing outside the door to Hermione's quarters.

"Sir, I would very much like to take a walk on the grounds later on in the evening... See the sunset," she said, hoping that he would pick up on her desire to not be coped up inside any longer.

He just looked at her for a moment and then he let out a heavy sigh.

"Very well," he replied almost grudgingly. "I will accompany you outside after dinner. Wait for me by the gate – do _not_ venture out on your own."

She agreed and then slipped inside her quarters. It felt good to be home and she immediately called for Dobby, asking him to bring her some toast and tea. Later on she would take a nice, long bath and after that she would most likely settle down in the comfy chair by the fireplace and read a book. She wished it would be after dinner already – and not only because she longed for the great outdoors. No, she simply longed to once again be in the Potions Master's presence.

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Hermione did her best to keep her promise about not going outside on her own, but for reason, the call of the grounds of Hogwarts became too profound for her to ignore any longer. Dinner in the Great Hall had just started and she felt an overwhelming urge that she couldn't explain to not wait any longer. The right thing to do would have gone to find Snape and see if he was done. For some reason she didn't. As she made her way down the path to the Lake, she had no idea of the danger that awaited her.

She sat down by the edge of the Lake, breathing in deeply and looking around in awe at the beauty of her surroundings. The leaves on the trees were in bright colors of red and yellow, while the grass was a rich color of green as the season of fall was still in the middle of preparing for winter. The sun would set in maybe half an hour – she had no trouble just sitting around waiting until then.

"Hello, Hermione."

Hermione went from blissfully happy to terrified in less than a second. She knew that voice – just as she knew that the voice didn't belong on the grounds of Hogwarts. She quickly got to her feet and twirled around to see Ron standing ten feet away from her, his posture relaxed and his expression neutral. He was simply looking at her, his head slightly tilted. Hermione's pulse was racing, her heart beating so hard she was sure he must be able to hear it.

"You know, the wards don't cover the lake – I don't know if it's always been like that, or if some of the wards disappeared with Dumbledore... But I simply rowed a boat over it and ta da – here I am. I've been camping at the edge of the forest for two days, hoping that you'd come down."

How could she have been so _bloody_ stupid, not waiting for Snape?

"I want you to come home, Hermione. You don't belong here – you belong with me and I'm here to take you with me home."

Hermione quickly went through her options. She could try to fight him off when he would start assaulting her, because she was certain that he would, or she could try to run by him and get back up to the Castle. Or she could simply allow him to take her with him home, and surrender herself back to hell she had been in before. She shuddered at that – she really only had the first two options.

"Hermione, say something. Please. It's unnerving that you're just staring at me without saying anything."

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to control her fear.

"Say something!" Ron suddenly yelled and she jumped, her eyes closing for a second as she anticipated his attack.

She still couldn't bring herself to say anything – she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of complying to his demands.

"Answer me, dammit!" Ron bellowed and strode up to her in less than a few seconds.

Hermione finally decided on option number two, realizing that she would not be strong enough to fight him off physically. She started running, side-stepping him, and saw surprise flicker across his face before she was by him. She ran as fast as she could, but it wasn't enough. The next moment Ron tackled her to the ground, falling flat on her face since he had gotten hold of her arms. He flipped her over and straddled her, having no trouble containing her struggling arms in a firm grip. And then, before she knew it, his fist connected to her face and for a moment, everything went black.

"You think that I would allow you to just take off like that, Hermione?" Ron hissed through clenched teeth. "That I wouldn't come after you? You _belong_ with me, Hermione. There's nothing else or no one else for you in this world. Without me you'd be completely alone."

But that wasn't true, Hermione mused as she whimpered in pain, feeling as if the skin under her left eye was on fire. Memories of the past few weeks flashed through her mind, images of Snape, Minerva and Harry being the prominent ones. She wasn't alone and these people knew the truth about what had happened to her – they would stick by her side no matter what. That thought gave her comfort and strength, but before she could start fighting back, he got annoyed at her again for not speaking.

"Dammit, Hermione, say SOMETHING!" he demanded as his fist connected to her right eye.

This time Hermione saw stars – her mind was so groggy that she had trouble remembering what was going on. Then, the next second, Ron flew off her and landed in a heap on the ground a few feet away.

"If I didn't know any better, Mr Weasley, I would say she has no interested in speaking with you."

Never before had Hermione felt so relieved to here someone's voice. She was safe now – she knew that without question. The voice was calm and controlled, but Hermione knew this was only for show. If she could see his face, she knew that she would see that he was angry.

"What the fuck do you know, Snape?" Ron demanded to know as he clumsily got to his feet. "Get the hell out of here, this doesn't concern you!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Had Ron lost his mind? Was he forgetting to whom he was speaking?

"Oh, but it does," Snape answered silkily as he hunched down next to Hermione's head. "I made a promise and I have always been a man of my word."

His hand came to rest on top of Hermione's head and he quickly murmured a spell under his breath. Hermione could feel the pain reducing a little and she inhaled deeply in relief.

"Get your hands off her, you slimy bastard!" Ron ordered and whipped out his wand, sending a Stinging Hex at Snape that the Potions Master blocked without even picking up his wand.

Snape straightened out his back and shot Ron a glowering look.

"Do you really intend to duel me, Mr Weasley?" he wondered, his tone dangerously low. "Are you really sure that's wise?"

Hermione decided that she couldn't just lie here anymore. With a surge of determination and a groan, she heaved herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes immediately went to Ron, who looked like he was fighting an inner battle with himself – flee now or duel the Potions Master?

"Miss Granger, don't move too much," Snape ordered her gently. "You might have gotten a concussion."

Hermione knew that it was most likely Snape's soft tone that got Ron to make up his mind. Not waiting any longer, Ron suddenly yelled "_Sectumsempra!_" which Snape deflected without a problem.

"Just as arrogant as Potter," Snape sneered at the boy, "trying to use one of my own spells against me. It is futile and an insult, Mr Weasley. Now, may I ask you to leave the grounds of Hogwarts before I force you?"

Snape was itching to hex the boy, but he needed a very good reason to do it so he wouldn't get in trouble.

"I'm not leaving without Hermione," Ron spat and hurled another a hex at Snape, which the Potions Master once again had no trouble blocking.

"I was hoping you would say that," Snape said softly and smirked as he reached for his wand. "Rest assured, Mr Weasley – you will not be taking her with you."

And without further ado, Snape sent a Stinging Hex at Ron, who did not possess the wits to try and block the spell. Ron yelped and jumped back, while Snape sent two more without pausing to see if he was causing any damage. The hex was so simply and hardly left a mark on the victim, so he had no qualms about sending off so many at once. He heard Hermione whimper from the ground and he glanced at her, wondering if she was in more pain than he had originally thought. He decided to end this now, so that he could take her up to Poppy.

"You should not have come here, Mr Weasley. _Stupefy!_"

Ron fell to the ground, unconscious. Snape bent down over Hermione and gently picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and then he started up the path to the Castle. His heart was still hammering in his chest and it frightened him that he cared so much about seeing her in such a state. This was worse compared to the incident in his classroom, because that had in many ways been an accident. He had seen Ron hit her the second time and he couldn't remember when he last had been so upset. It was one thing seeing what he had done to her in Hermione's memories – it was quite another thing seeing it happen right before his eyes.

"I need to take you back to Poppy, Miss Granger."

"No!" Hermione ground out, her arms tightening around his neck. "Please, no. I don't want to be locked up again."

Snape frowned. He could understand how she felt, knowing full well that Poppy would want to keep her for at least two days solely because this had happened so close to the prior incident.

"Did he use magic against you?" he wondered, thinking that maybe she didn't have to go to infirmary if he hadn't.

He felt Hermione shake her head against his chest.

"Very well, I will take you to your room."

"No!" Hermione yelped, her arms tightening once again around his neck, her grip so firm that it was obvious she wouldn't let him go voluntarily. "Don't leave me."

His heart squeezed and he felt annoyed at the fact. He didn't want to care so much about her, but apparently his bloody heart was treacherous to his mind.

"Would you feel comfortable in my quarters then, Miss Granger?"

He felt her relax slightly and he knew the answer before she voiced it out loud.

"Yes," she whispered, her breath tickling the side of his neck.

He sighed quietly – perhaps it was for the best, taking her to his room. If Ron had been forceful enough, she could have gotten a concussion. It would be a good precaution to keep an eye on her, just in case. She was surprisingly light in his arms, and the rest of the way to the dungeons and his quarters they were silent.

"Aconite," Snape muttered when they reached his rooms, the door swinging open as he had uttered the password – he didn't think that Hermione was conscious enough to remember it.

He went straight to his bedroom, placing her carefully on his bed. Then he went to fetch her a potion for the pain and she took it without hesitation. He sat down on the bed next to her and examined her face, realizing that she would get not one, but two black eyes. Idiot boy – why did men always aim for the face when they hit their wives and girlfriends? Knowing that he had a salve for bruises in a drawer in the bathroom, he left to fetch it.

"Would you like to do this on your own, Miss Granger, or would you like me to do it?" he asked, wondering if Ron had scared her enough so that she wouldn't want to be touched.

Hermione looked up at him with trusting eyes.

"You can do it, sir. Please."

Her voice was so fragile. He sat down next to her and then carefully started massaging the salve into her skin. She winced in pain, even though his touch was feather-light.

"He entered the grounds by rowing a boat over the Lake, sir," she said slowly. "Why are there no wards covering the Lake?"

He looked surprised and he paused for a moment.

"There should be," he answered simply, feeling annoyed that neither he nor Minerva had bothered to check the wards around the Castle after the war had ended. "I will look into it."

When he was done, he simply looked at her for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said suddenly, her tone extremely sad.

His eyes narrowed.

"For what, Miss Granger?" he wondered, even thought he probably knew what was plaguing her.

"For going out on my own," she whispered in reply.

Snape sighed and gently took her hand in his own. If Hermione hadn't been so filled with guilt, she probably would have jumped and marveled at the obvious sign of comfort.

"We will talk about this tomorrow, but know that I am not angry or upset with _you_. Sleep now, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," was all she said, her eyes getting a gleam of fierce determination.

Snape gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand.

"Very well. Sleep now... Hermione."

Her heart swelled in delight at hearing her name for the first time in his silky, soft voice. She smiled at him and he couldn't help but mirror her expression. Then he let her hand go and she closed her eyes so that she wouldn't have see him leave the room. Before she knew it, she was sleeping, even though it was only six thirty in the evening.

Snape on the other hand, was awake for a very long time after he left her. First he went down to where he had left Ron, wanting to make sure that he was gone. He searched the entire edge of the forest and found his campsite close to the Lake. In one swift movement of his wand, he had vanished everything – the tent, the backpack, the storage of food... And then he went down to the Lake, where he set up strong, but very temporary wards. He would have to speak to the staff about it tomorrow – all the wards needed to be checked, that much was certain.

When he was done out on the grounds, he sat down in a chair by the fireplace in his living room, sipping slowly on a large amount of Firewhiskey. By the time he fell asleep on his couch, Hermione had already been sleeping for almost seven hours.

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_AN: Please review! And I promise to do all that I can to update more often. _


	13. Firewhiskey, chess and numbing the pain

Chapter Twelve

Firewhiskey, chess and numbing the pain

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she felt disoriented. As her eyes got used to the sunlight, she realized that she was in the dungeons, but not in her own bed. Wait a minute... Sunlight? In the dungeons? Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in the bed, looking around the room in awe. There were windows to the right of her, and she could see the sun shining over the Lake. How was it possible that Snape had a view of the Lake in his quarters? He lived _under water level_ for Merlin's sake!

"They are enchanted."

Hermione let out a shriek of surprise and at the same time she jumped more than she had done in a long time at the sound of Snape's voice.

"Must you _always_ startle me so on purpose, sir?" she wondered warily as she glanced over her shoulder, knowing that he most likely would look much too pleased.

Snape was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know I must, Miss Granger," he replied silkily.

Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she heard him once again utter her surname. She had hoped that after last night, he would finally start calling her 'Hermione' naturally, but it would appear that she was sadly mistaken. Snape studied her for a moment, wondering why a shadow had fallen over her features in less than a second. He beckoned for her to join him in the other room.

"We will take breakfast in my living room this morning."

Hermione sprung to her feet, thinking that the only way to hear her name from Snape's lips on a regular basis was to actually befriend him – a feat easier said than done. Her stomach growled loudly as the scent of breakfast reached her nostrils and she wondered why she was so hungry – it wasn't like her to crave food in the mornings. _Oh right. I didn't have dinner last night – no wonder I'm starving._

"So you said the windows in your rooms are enchanted?" she asked as she sat down on a chair by a little table that had just enough space to fit a plate of toast and marmalade and tea for the both of them. "Like the ceiling in the Great Hall?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Snape said and smirked when he saw her cheeks redden in delight.

Gryffindors... None of them were very good with hiding their emotions and this one ate up praise as if she was being fed the sweetest ambrosia. It was, however, strange that a part of him didn't mind much to see her face brighten when he bestowed her a rare compliment and he absentmindedly wondered if he would have felt the same if he had seen her react like this to praise when she was still a student at Hogwarts. Probably not... He would have simply sneered at her and called her something degrading.

"What's on your mind, Professor?"

Hermione's gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he gave her an almost confused look.

"You seemed... troubled."

"I am mainly concerned that last night has set you back in your rehabilitation," Snape answered smoothly as he swiftly brushed the marmalade on his toast. "Can you tell me about what happened before I arrived at the scene?"

Hermione gulped and ducked her head. Snape's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Miss Granger, I told you yesterday that I am not angry with you, nor will I punish you or hurt you for disobeying me. I am merely trying to understand what possessed you for going out alone and I need to know what happened with Mr Weasley prior to when I got there."

Hermione inhaled deeply and cautiously met his penetrating gaze.

"We can look at the memory after breakfast, sir," she said quietly as she wrung her hands together. "As to why I went out on my own... I can't explain it. The call of grounds was too enormous for me to ignore."

Snape stared at her, uncomprehending. The call of the grounds? What in Merlin's name was that supposed to mean?

"I've always been an outdoorsy person," she tried explaining, "from when I was a little girl. I used to go camping with my parents during summer, during school breaks... Even some weekends if the weather was nice. When I came here, to this magnificent place, I fell in love with the nature surrounding me. Sometimes, when Harry and Ron thought I was studying in the library, I was really outside, just enjoying the quiet as I watched sunsets... birds singing and playing in the air..."

She paused when she realized that she was rambling. She had to find a way to tie this up, fast, before he lost his patience with her.

"I just felt as if the ground was calling for me, almost begging me to come out. It's happened before, usually when I've been couped up inside for too long."

"I see," Snape said, but in reality he couldn't really understand what she meant at all.

They finished what was left of their breakfast in silence and once they were done, Hermione gave him an apprehensive glance.

"Memory time?" she wondered with a sigh.

Snape checked his watch and realized with a start that his class would begin in less than five minutes. Honestly, what was with him lately?

"We'll have to save it for tonight, Miss Granger," he said as he stood, quickly striding over to his desk to gather up some papers he needed with him. "Can you brew me the Blood-Replenishing Potion today?"

"Of course, sir," she answered automatically, realizing only after he had left that she had never brewed this potion before and would perhaps need a bit more instruction than normally.

She considered going after him, but refrained from doing so. She was, after all, the brightest witch of her age, although after yesterday's escapade it might be a good idea to start question the truth of that statement. Sighing softly, she strolled down to the Potions lab, knowing that she could always run to Snape and interrupt his class if she ran into a problem.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

When Snape and Hermione emerged from the Pensieve later on that evening, Snape was forced to close his eyes for a moment to school his features from angry to an adequate "that wasn't so bad" look. He wanted to throttle Ronald Weasley. He would never be able to understand a man's violence against a woman he claimed to love. His father had done the same thing to his mother, treating her as if she didn't deserved to be treated anything but nasty and Eileen Snape had just accepted her fate. Since her husband had hated magic, she never used it when there was a chance he could catch her using it and that meant that her healing spells almost always came a little bit too late, leaving her skin blemished with scars. Thankfully, Ron had only had his fists available. Tobias Snape had preferred to use anything that was sharp and pointy.

"I noticed that you seemed to tense up when he called your name, Miss Granger, but what was actually going through your mind?" he wondered as they sat down in the chairs in front of the roaring fire.

"Nothing coherent, at first," she answered, staring in to the flames. "I felt this terrible shock at hearing his voice and the next second I was terrified. He was so calm and relaxed, while my pulse was racing and my heart beating so hard that I'm amazed he didn't hear it."

She paused, and thought for a moment. Her gaze shifted from the fire to meet the black eyes of the Potions Master.

"Then I remember going through my options. Run, try to fight him of or go with him home and accept my fate. I decided to run, to try to get back to the Castle... Back to you."

She felt her cheeks redden as she let that last part slip out. _You don't need to tell him __everything_, _Hermione!_ she admonished herself. Snape's eyes didn't betray anything of how he reacted to her words, so after she had lowered her eyes to her hands, she continued.

"When he was lying on top of me, saying thatI am alone without him, I realized that he was wrong. I have Harry, Minerva and you, and neither of you will ever abandon me," she said with a small smile. "That gave me strength and I made up my mind to fight _back_. But before I knew, his fist connected with my face again and the next moment he was gone."

She met his gaze and she could the smallest hint of a satisfied smile playing on Snape's lips.

"I do not believe I have ever felt such a surge of exhilarating contentment, apart from being rid of the Dark Lord, as to when I saw saw Ronald Weasley fly through the air without a broom to land flat on his ass."

Hermione couldn't help it as a little giggle slipped out of her.

"It was rather satisfying and enjoyable seeing it in the memory, sir," she agreed and they shared an amused look before they both turned their gazes to the fire.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The dancing flames had them both enthralled for quite some time. Hermione had always found fire fascinating and she greatly enjoyed staring at the flames, trying to distinguish what shapes she could see, if any at all. Finally, it was Snape that broke the tranquil silence.

"Hopefully, your decision to fight back will have helped your rehabilitation. I might not have done anything that we will be able to see tomorrow, but perhaps it is a start."

He got to his feet suddenly and poured them each a glass of firewhiskey each.

"I am adding an activity to our routine, Miss Granger, if you are willing."

Hermione frowned, wondering what on earth he was going to have her do now. She was already brewing potions for him, meditating before breakfast and before she went to bed, she read the book about Animagi every free moment of her day and she spent two hours working on her magic with Snape every evening. Soon she wouldn't have time to sleep!

"Do you play chess, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly and she stared at him blankly, uncomprehending. What did that have to do with... well, _anything_?

"I ask because I am wondering how you would feel about ending our sessions with a little something to drink and a nice, relaxing game of chess?"

"I think it sounds as if you want to _socialize _with me, Professor," Hermione said with a smirk.

Snape rolled his eyes. Yes, of course that's how she would interpret it.

"Hardly, Miss Granger," he sneered, but it didn't quite come off as the Potions Master's most disdainful sneer. "I merely prefer playing the noble game with someone, rather than another thousand games on my own."

He handed her the glass of firewhiskey, which Hermione eyed quite warily.

"You know, this stuff is vile," she said as she accepted the glass, her comment making Snape snort in amusement. "I barely understand how adults can drink it with a straight face."

"We drink it because we are accustomed to its flavor. It might take some time, Miss Granger, but after that, I am quite sure even you will enjoy it. Besides, seeing as you are an adult now yourself, is it not time for you to be able to drunk the 'vile stuff' with a straight face?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, but she secretly agreed with him. She took a small sip and did everything in her power not to wince as the liquid burned her throat. Her display caused Snape to once again let out an amused snort.

"Almost, Miss Granger. Almost. Next time try not to wrinkle your nose."

Hermione glared at him - she wasn't sure if he was teasing her or if he actually had meant it as real advice. Either way, she vowed to herself not to wrinkle her nose next time. They were quiet for a moment and then Snape's features grew solemn, almost sad.

"I used to play with Albus," he said softly, the tone of his voice so sad that she wanted to reach out and embrace him. "I miss having a worthy opponent."

Hermione bit her lip, wondering what she could say now that wouldn't cause her to step over some kind of line. She knew that Snape missed Dumbledore more than he would ever admit to her. It was obvious when he spoke about him, or heard someone say something about the wizard that had been more of a father to him than his own. She finally chose to overlook his comment about Dumbledore – perhaps they could talk about him another time, when they knew each other better.

"And you believe me to be a worthy opponent, sir?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her act of saintlike innocence, knowing full well that she was fishing for another compliment. _Hmm. Make her blush with delight or make her glare in annoyance? Decisions, decisions... _He stroke a finger along his upper lip, his head tilted slightly.

"I believe you are the _only_ opponent, Miss Granger, that would even stand a chance of giving me an entertaining game."

There – a compliment and a slight insult at the same time. He didn't often manage to pull something like that off. But it worked, because Hermione was now looking somewhat confused, unsure of what to make of his statement. He smirked and lifted his glass slightly in salute to her. Not knowing what else to do, Hermione took a sip as well and was so off balance that she didn't even notice that she didn't wince when the Firewhiskey burned its way down her throat.

"So, would you care to indulge me in a gave of chess, Miss Granger?"

"Well, I don't think you'll enjoy it much, sir. I've only played a few times, and it's been so long that I barely remember the rules."

Snape waved her words away with his hand and then muttered something under his breath – a mere second later, a chessboard appeared in mid air and then gracefully fluttered down to the table in between the two chairs.

"Someone who is so adept with logical thinking and memorizing... well, everything, really, should not have much trouble with the rules of chess. We will simply try this tonight and are you neither remotely interested or entertained, I will not force it upon you again."

Hermione couldn't even consider any other option than saying that she would play, because Snape was so... _eager_ to play with someone, even if it was against a person who barely knew what the pieces were called. He probably hadn't had anyone to play with since Dumbledore died. Her heart squeezed in compassion – had he had _anyone_ since he had been forced to kill his mentor and longtime friend?

"I will play, Professor, but only if you promise to _bare with me_ and not snap at me when I make a stupid move or if I'm taking too long," she said with a smile.

With a twitch of his wand, her chair twisted slightly and moved closer to the table.

"Of course, Miss Granger."

For ten minutes, Snape told Hermione of the rules of chess, mainly how the pieces moved and how the game was won. Then they played two games, the first in which Snape slaughtered Hermione, while in the second, she managed to put his King in check – she had felt a moment of triumph before she came to realize that this had made her own King completely open for his Queen to end the game.

"Thank you, sir. I had a really lovely evening," Hermione said as she stood to retire to her room for the night. "Chess is something you definitely wouldn't be forcing on me, should you decide you want to humiliate me again sometime."

Snape actually gave her a real smile at that and she stared at him for a moment, always lost and intrigued in the change of his features that came with that rare smile.

"Thank you for indulging me," he said softly, sounding completely genuine. "I will most likely want the chance to humiliate you again, sooner or later."

She barked out a laugh at that and he walked her to the door to his quarters.

"Sleep well, Miss Granger," he said with a slight bow of his head.

"Hermione," she corrected adamantly.

Snape tilted his head, searching her eyes for a moment. Then he sighed in defeat.

"Good night, Hermione."

The radiant smile that she ought to save for loved ones appeared on her lips and he kept his senses sharp, as if to trying to etch the way she looked at this moment into his mind, so that he could remember the smile she was giving him now for the rest of life.

"Good night, Professor."

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

Te next few days, Hermione's days looked pretty much the same. She would get up at seven, meditate for half an hour, join Snape for breakfast in the Great Hall at eight, start brewing whatever potion he wanted her to brew at eight thirty, break for a quick lunch at around twelve, finish the potion, read about and research animagi until it was time for dinner, meet up with Snape in his office at seven for a ninety minute session, have a glass of firewhiskey and play chess and then end the day with another meditation session, just long enough for her mind be tranquil when she went to bed. And all during this, she fully took advantage of spending so much time with Snape as a chance to get to know him. On the fourth evening after their first chess game, Hermione decided to ask one of the questions she had been wanting to ask him for a long time.

"Sir, I hope this doesn't question doesn't come off as presumptuous, you can just ignore it if it is, but..."

Snape merely waited, his eyebrow slightly raised as he kept his eyes glued to the chessboard, wanting to keep his concentration until she was ready to ask him whatever it was she wanted to know. He was fully aware of the fact that if she considered the question to be so bad that she felt the need to warn him about it first, the inquiry could only concern two things - the Death Eaters or Lily Potter. He could sense her hesitation and then somewhere from within she found the courage to open her mouth.

"Why did you become a Death Eater?"

She waited for him to sneer at her and tell her to mind her own business. Instead he raised his eyes for a moment and held up his hand, as if trying to tell her that he would answer her in a minute. His gaze averted back to the board and he barely moved in several minutes. She waited patiently until he made his move and then he sat back comfortably in his chair.

"Why do you ask?" he wondered, his tone neither angry nor upset in any way.

"I just don't understand, sir," she said with a small shrug. "I know that you are different now from when you were young, but... You're halfblood yourself and your best friend was muggleborn, so I doubt you believed in the purity of blood back then."

He considered her for a moment before he nodded his head in agreement.

"You are correct, Miss Granger. The purity of blood has never been an issue for me. I would quite the hypocrite if it _was _an issue, wouldn't I? Just like the Dark Lord, in fact..."

His mind drifted back to his Hogwarts days. He and Lily had been so excited about going to Hogwarts and from the start it had seemed as if the magical world had wanted them apart by placing them in two different houses. The crowd he had fallen in with in Slytherin House were all from ancient wizarding families with nothing but the purest blood running through their veins, and they had all grown up with the impression that they were superior to anyone who did not share their blood status. The few people in his house who cared enough to question why they didn't recognize the name 'Snape' as a pureblood name, he chose to be honest with – the venom in his voice whilst speaking of his muggle father was so real that no one dared question him further. Besides, those who hadn't feared Snape for his knowledge of the Dark Arts, respected that knowledge enough not to care about his blood status.

"To put it simply, Miss Granger, I fell in with the wrong crowd during my years as Hogwarts. Quite hard not to, in those days, if you were put in Slytherin. The Dark Lord was gathering all the pureblood families together and those who couldn't openly stand by his side, due to their positions within the Ministry or those who were still in school, helped in other ways."

Hermione sat absolutely still, completely lost in his tale. She hardly dared to breath. She didn't want to be do anything that would break his thoughts, since he would probably realize then that he was being far too open with her.

"Lucius Malfoy was a sixth year when I came to Hogwarts and immediately seemed to noticed my skill in ordinary classes, along with the skill I showed in casting hexes and minor curses whenever another student would bully me. Until Potter and Black started noticing me, I really could watch after myself. Lucius took the time to talk to me and in some ways he was the only real friend I had in Slytherin. Lily loathed him, said he was sure to become a Death Eater the minute he was out of Hogwarts, if he wasn't already, and the only reason he spoke to me was because he wanted to recruit me."

Snape came to a pause as he lifted his gaze from the fire to simply stare into space.

"I should have listened more to her. Merlin only knows how different everything would have been if I had. When I finally lost her forever, when she told me that Potter was her soul mate, I was so full of anger that I turned to those who seemed to be the only people who understood me – the only people I had left. How could I refuse to join the Dark Lord's ranks? I would have been utterly alone had I chosen to decline the _kind_ offer."

It took a little while for Hermione to realize that he was done talking. She was so dumbfounded over the fact that he had so easily told her about what must have been one of the most difficult and life altering decisions he had ever had to make. And now, she had no idea of what to say. Snape finally turned to look at her and for a moment their eyes locked, leaving the rest of the world out. He seemed to sense that she was struggling with what to say, because quite out of the blue he said;

"Miss Granger, it is your turn."

Her eyebrows lifted slowly, not at all understanding what in Merlin's name he was talking about. His eyes shifted to the table in between them and then it hit her. _Riiiight. _They were playing chess. She really did prefer to hear him speak about his life...

"Sir, can I ask you another question?"

He frowned, wondering what on earth she wanted to know now, not at all aware of the fact that she found him fascinating and craved to know more about him.

"If you must."

His answer made her hesitate, he saw it as clearly as if she told him out loud that now she wasn't sure if she wanted to ask the next question. He gave her a short nod, telling her to just spit it out.

"I know I must be overstepping my boundaries this time, sir, but... Is Lily Potter the only woman you've ever loved?"

Of all the questions she could have asked him, that was the one he had expected the least to hear. He flinched and got to his feet. For a moment he simply looked at her, but as soon as his brain registered that she looked frightened, he tried to cover it up by striding over to his desk to get the bottle of Ogden's. If they were going to talk about Lily Potter, he needed something to numb him.

"Lily has never been a topic of conversation which I have partaken in over the years. It hurts too much, thinking and speaking of her in the way that everyone else that knew her did and still do. So if you do not mind, I would like to drink three glasses of Firewhiskey before I answer that question."

Hermione's jaw dropped. What was she supposed to say to that? Something, obviously, as he was watching her and waiting for an answer.

"Er, no, I don't mind, sir."

She watched in stunned silence how Severus Snape downed three shots of Firewhiskey in three swift motions. After the last one he beckoned her to do the same with the glass of whiskey he had poured for her and, feeling so startled because of this new side of him, downed the liquid and completely forgot to wince when it burned her throat. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Snape staring at the flames, Hermione staring at Snape with her head tilted.

"Yes, Lily is the only woman I have ever loved," he finally answered slowly, taking his eyes from the fire so that he could pour them both another glass of whiskey. "I'm sure you've heard from many what a wonderful, loving woman she was – I was doomed from the moment I met her. Had I been wiser back then, I would have not pursued the Dark Arts so heavily. It was ultimately that factor that drove us apart."

This glass of whiskey he sipped on slowly, realizing that becoming downright drunk in front of Hermione Granger probably wasn't a good idea.

"I loved her in a way that I knew would never be reciprocated. She was, after all, the best in many ways, and too good and pure hearted for the likes of me. James Potter was in many ways well suited for her, apart the fact that he was a bully... She grounded him a lot during our last two years as students, growing out of it so that he would be worthy of Lily's love, a fact I have chosen to ignore for a long time."

Snape suddenly snapped his eyes up to meet Hermione's and he gave her a real Snapeish glare. Hermione's eyebrows rose, wondering what on earth she could have done wrong. She hadn't moved and she was barely breathing.

"Do _not_ inform Potter that I have voluntarily admitted that his father was well suited for his mother."

Hermione let out a short laugh at that, but as his glare deepened, she sobered up quickly and nodded her head in agreement. He watched her a moment longer and then his eyes swept back towards the fire as he continued his tale.

"She is the only woman I have loved, but that may simply be because I have had very limited free time on my hands during the years since I graduated from Hogwarts. Love, like all the hardest things in life, takes time to build up. Should I feel inclined to find myself wanting a relationship, now is most likely the first time since Lily that I have time to try to find it."

He glanced at her sharply.

"I hope you understand, Miss Granger, that whatever I tell you within these walls, are told to you with the strictest confidence."

He finished his fifth glass of firewhiskey with a large gulp and then he reached for the bottle to pour himself a sixth. Merlin, he was going to regret this tomorrow.

"Of course, sir," she agreed with a small smile. "Does that mean that trust exists between us then?"

His hand paused, leaving the bottle slightly tilted over his glass.

"What?" he snapped as his eyes narrowed into small slits.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and straightened out her back. She was not going to back down on this issue simply because he tried to be threatening. Thinking back on her first session with Snape, she had told him that trust was something that could exist between them some day, with time. He had nodded his head then as if he had agreed with her, but she had seen the doubtful gleam in his eyes. Ever since, she had hoped to prove to him that one day they would be able to trust each other unconditionally – like true friends were supposed to do.

"You heard me," she replied, and for the first time ever she forgot to be respectful as she had to add, "sir," as an afterthought.

He stared at her for a long time after that, his eyes narrowing slightly and un-narrowing every so often as if he was trying to decipher if she had some kind of hidden agenda for asking him such a question.

"Do you mean to say, Miss Granger, that you trust me?" he asked her slowly, so quietly that she only just heard him.

She scoffed at the question and Snape flinched a little.

"Of course I do, sir! After everything you've done for me, it would be foolish of me _not_ to trust you. And I have bared my soul to you – I would never have consented to that if I didn't trust you."

She noticed that he visibly relaxed at her words and then went back to scrutinizing her.

"I suppose... that I would not have told you a single word to answer your questions if I had not trusted you to keep it to yourself, Miss Granger. So to answer your inquiry – yes, I do believe that trust _does_ exist between us."

_Yes! _Hermione felt a sudden wave of triumph wash over her at his confession. Now perhaps they finally could start becoming real friends. She saw that he glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Time for bed, I think, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected his and straightened out her back a little in defiance. "My name, sir, is Hermione.

He gave her what could be best described as an amused look.

"So you keep informing me. Very well, then, _Hermione._ Time for bed."

She gave him a little smile and then got to her feet. He walked her to the door and graciously opened it for her with a small bow. Before she got a chance to bid him good night, he held up his hand. She snapped her mouth shut and waited for whatever it was that he wanted to say.

"I think the time has come, Hermione, for you to call me Severus. It seems to me that you prefer the use of given names over the use of last names."

Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise as she stared at him in wonder. Where had that come from? She had thought that she had several months ahead of her to try to get him to want to her to call him Severus.

"Close your mouth, Hermione. You look like a fish and it is not befitting for you."

He barked out a short, quiet laugh when she had some trouble doing as he had ordered. They simply looked at each other for a moment before Hermione finally placed her hand against his shoulder.

"Good night, Severus," she said softly, loving the way his name rolled off her tongue, and retracted her hand before he got a chance to scold her.

"Good night, Hermione."

There was something in his voice that made her pause a second before leaving him for the evening. She stared into his black orbs for a moment and she found herself desperately wanting to know what was going on in inside of him at the moment. His face was carefully schooled as it always was and she knew that someday she wanted and longed to get to know the man behind that mask. Giving him a last brief smile, she turned away and walked the short distance to her rooms.

For now, she was content in the way their relationship and friendship was developing. The fact that he had given her permission to call him by his first name was a huge step and she knew that wherever she wanted this friendship to go, she would have to take small steps with Severus Snape. Even though she was obviously damaged, she couldn't wield her magic properly after all, she could tell that Severus was damaged in his own ways. He had scars that ran so deep that it seeped into his soul. But just as he was helping her, Hermione vowed now to help him in whatever way she could.

She owed him that.

_To be continued..._


	14. Blushes and the Howler

_AN:_ _Sorry for the freakin' long delay! I'm writing my BA paper this term and have been forced to prioritize my time in front of the computer on the essay. Hope you enjoy this chapter though._

Chapter Thirteen  
Blushes and the Howler

Hermione was almost done brewing the Draught of Peace when Severus entered the lab – it was nearly four o'clock and if she had timed everything correctly, she should be finishing up at any moment. He walked slowly, stealthily, so that he would not startle her if was at the end of the critical stage of the potion where the hellebore was to be added. Walking into the shadow, he finally stopped when he was diagonally across from her. He watched her for a moment, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She had a swift, fluid movement, and her eyes were glued to the potion as she stirred counter-clockwise. From the intensity of her gaze, he could tell that she was fully absorbed and concentrated on the task before her. The minute she put the ladle down, he once again moved backwards out of the shadow and then quietly crept up behind her. When he was less than an arms length away from her, he noticed that she tensed, and he knew that she now was aware of his presence. He leaned forward a little.

"Hermione," he said silkily, his mouth mere inches away from her ear.

He heard her let out a quiet gasp when his breath tickled her ear and he smirked slightly as he peered down into the potion. Of course, it was perfect. He bowed his head down a fraction.

"You seem to have excelled with this potion. As you always seem to do," he added, letting out the small puffs of air that came with some of the voiced letters and some of the fricatives a little more pronounced so that she would feel his breath on her neck. "Well done."

Hermione closed her eyes as she felt the now familiar feelings that he kept awakening in her every time she felt his warm breath gently tickle the side of her neck. He had been doing this to her for the last couple of days and she wondered if he knew what such a simple thing was doing to her. A part of her thought he knew exactly what he was doing – he was after all a man who always thought through everything he said and did. Another part of her thought the exact opposite because of the confused expression she would notice on his face when her eyes would glaze over and her breathing became labored. Severus Snape was all in all a big, giant mystery to her.

Shew as beginning to wish that she knew exactly how to interpret the things that came out of the mouth of Severus Snape – how to crack his indestructible mask, to get a feeling of what was going on in his mind. The last couple of days had been great. He was opening up to her in a way she never would have dreamed of and she had the impression that they were actually friends now. But something else had changed as well, but she couldn't remember when or how things had changed. Suddenly he was just doing everything in his power to entice her. If he did it on purpose, she didn't know. All she knew was that Severus Snape was driving her insane.

"Thank you, sir," she breathed out as she turned on her heel to face him. "However, if you thought that this potion would be anything but perfect, that's an insult to me and my skill."

She smirked at him and he only rolled his eyes.

"Take praise as it is, Hermione. We wouldn't want you to get an ever bigger head than the one already residing on your head."

Hermione's face fell and her smirk turned into a pout. Severus wanted to curse at himself for causing that infernal pout to emerge. He doubted that she knew it, but her pout was damned cute and sexy at the same time. He wanted to kiss the pout away, but whenever that thought would cross his mind he would flinch away from it and internally smack himself over the head. It was inappropriate for him to think about her that way. He never would have thought that he would associate Hermione Granger with a word as powerfully loaded as sexy. But he couldn't deny it any longer. She had indeed grown up into a beautiful, sexy woman. And that pout was slowly driving him insane.

"You're terrible at giving praise, Severus," she said as her pout turned into a small smile before she turned back towards the potion. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Yes, I came to inquire if you wanted to join me on a quest to the apothecary in Hogsmeade. It dawned on me that we have run out of some basic essentials that cannot be procured on the grounds."

Hermione turned the burner off and then glanced at Severus.

"Will there be a chance of getting drinks at the Three Broomsticks after the quest to the apothecary?" she asked carefully.

Severus let out a mock groan.

"You will force me into socializing on a Wednesday afternoon?"

"I will indeed, Professor," Hermione answered, a big smile forming on her lips. "It's long overdue, I think."

Severus narrowed an eye in suspicion.

"Long over due that I buy you a drink, Hermione?"

Hermione shot him a look before she turned back to the potion to start bottling the liquid.

"No, Severus. It's high time that I buy _you_ a drink. It's the least I can do after everything you've done for me. Wouldn't you agree?"

She glanced at him in time to see a small smile soften his features.

"I do believe you are correct, Hermione. Here, let me help you."

They spent ten minutes pouring the Draught of Peace into portion sized vials and then Hermione demanded the luxury of a shower and a change of clothes before they walked the short distance to Hogsmeade. For the first time in a long time she wanted to get a bit dolled up – put on something a wee bit nicer to wear and put a little makeup on. Severus Snape was making her feel like a woman again and she felt the need to show him that she indeed was a woman. She chose her favorite jeans and a tight, dark blue tank top that showed off her curves. After she had applied a bit of mascara and eyeliner, she met up with Severus at the Great Hall and she was delighted to see that his eyes widened a fraction when he saw her. Putting on her winter cloak (November was nearing and it was getting colder everyday outside), Hermione followed the Potions Master down the path to the small village.

They spent a delightful evening together in Hogsmeade. At the apothecary they found everything on Severus' list except for Mandrake root, which they were currently out of due to a bad harvest last season. As they sat down for drinks at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione knew she had chosen well in regards to her outfit. She doubted that Severus was conscious of it, but he was spending a lot of time staring at her and she was thoroughly enjoying having her looks appraised by him. She couldn't remember the last time a man had looked at like that – Merlin only knew how long it had been since Ron had looked at her with appreciation shinning through his eyes.

She took a sip of her white wine, trying to remember where in the discussion of the uses of moonstone they were and wondering if it was her turn to speak. If she didn't stop thinking about how much she enjoyed having Severus Snape stare at her, she would be completely lost in a a minute or two.

"Hermione, I cannot believe how you, with your knowledge of the theoretical aspects of potions making, can truly believe that moonstone can be used in potions that have nothing to do with procuring emotional balance – as you know, the stone has been thoroughly tested in all forms; powdered, melted, chopped up... and there hasn't even been an inkling that the stone can be used for anything else!"

"Yes, I know all of that," Hermione said dismissively and took yet another small sip of wine. "But tell me something, Severus. Has anyone ever thought of putting the stone completely whole into a potion? I have yet to read about anyone doing that."

Severus opened his mouth to retort, then snapped it shut as he realized that her question was a valid one. He racked his brain for a name, for someone who could have been bold enough to put a whole moonstone into a potion simply for the sake of testing it – after all, the gemstone was precious and rare enough to not foolishly tamper with needlessly.

"I understand your point, Hermione. This is something that needs to be researched. For now, how about some dinner? It's getting rather late and you must be hungry."

They ordered roast chicken with mashed potatoes from Madame Rosmerta (who kept shooting them incredulous looks) as they started a new topic on the latest advances within potions. Severus told her in strictest confidence that he had been able to construct a version of the Wolfsbane potion that would lessen the pain of the transformation.

"That's great, Severus! Why haven't you published it yet?"

Severus grimaced and then gulped down the rest of his firewhiskey.

"Because I have yet to test it. Seeing as Lupin is not around anymore to help me, I find myself without a test subject. He would always allow me to test any variety of the potion on him, as he was desperate to try to live life with Tonks as normally and easily as he could."

Hermione noticed the change in his mood, even though it was very subtle. If Severus grieved Lupin as a friend or as a test subjected, she didn't know. Nonetheless, she could see in his eyes that Severus had buried his past with this particular Marauder a long time ago.

"You know, Severus, you should count yourself lucky that this place isn't packed by students tonight," Hermione said suddenly, determined to lighten the mood.

Severus just raised one of his eyebrows in question and then waited for her to answer his unvoiced question. She shrugged a shoulder.

"Well, anyone who saw us would think that we're on a date."

Severus nearly choked on a piece of chicken and he coughed violently to clear his airways. He gave her a horrified look and she had to laugh at the shock she saw in his eyes.

"Come on, Severus, think about it. We're not wearing our usual robes, we're drinking alcohol, having dinner in a restaurant rather than at the school and we're sitting in a booth that is slightly hidden. For Merlin's sake, we're even laughing and smiling at each other! Have you not seen the incredulous looks Madame Rosmerta has been shooting our way? When I think about it, this even looks like a date to me."

Severus spluttered something incoherent, waving his fork around in midair as he tried, unsuccessfully, to gain the upper hand of this topic. It had never even occurred to him this could be considered a "date", as he had never actually been on a date before. It was a strange concept to him, because girls and women had always been a bit... weary of him – never had anyone been able to understand him fully, or even well enough to not be frightened of him in one way or the other. They had simply been interested in the physical aspects of a relationship... Wait, had Hermione said that this looked like a date to her? What in Merlin's name did that mean? The way she had said it, with a small smile playing on her lips and a short shrug of her shoulder, made him think that she wasn't opposed to the idea of them being on a date... Oh, for heaven's sake! They were _not_ on a date!

"Miss Granger, are you jesting?" he finally said, forgetting to use her first name in his confusion.

Hermione let out a soft laughter and rolled her eyes at him.

"Severus, I will not allow you to start calling me 'Miss Granger' again," she said and gave him a wink. "And no, I'm not jesting. To anyone watching us, this could very well be a date. We both know that it isn't, but others don't."

Severus glanced around the room swiftly.

"But there is no one here but Madame Rosmerta," he said dumbly.

"Yes, which I way started this whole conversation by saying that you are lucky that there are no students around," she said slowly, as she tilted her head to watch him curiously. "Are you alright, Severus? You seem a little flustered, and usually you're not this dimwitted."

And then something happened that Hermione thought she'd never experience in the company of the ever composed Potions Master – the man _blushed_ and averted his gaze, and she instinctively knew that he wasn't flushed because he was angry. Was it simply due to the fact that she had called him out on his strange behavior? She knew that he took great pride in his mask of indifference that made him seem cold and mean. To spare him more discomfort, she quickly changed the subject back to the much safer topic of potions.

As Severus walked her to the her quarters, Hermione felt more content than she had in years. She could hardly believe that she had spent such a pleasant evening with the Potions Master, as their past had been rather rocky.

"How come you never complimented me while I was in school, Severus?" she wondered as they entered the dungeons. "All my other teachers did."

Severus sighed softly, knowing that she sooner or later would have asked that question and yet he still wasn't sure how to answer it.

"I didn't really compliment anyone, Hermione," he started slowly, still pondering the question seriously.

"You complimented Malfoy," Hermione muttered under her breath and she saw out of the corner of her eye that the Potions Master rolled his eyes.

"Indeed I did compliment Draco, but I did so for a number of reasons. First and foremost, he is my godson and the only child I've ever really liked – it was hard for me to break the habit of showering him with praise when he came to school. Secondly, his father was a Death Eater, even though towards the end of the war, he lost faith in the Dark Lord."

He made a pause to gauge her reaction – she looked surprised at the news of Draco being his godson, which was not surprising. It had never been common knowledge outside of the Malfoy family.

"Which I suppose is one part of the reason for why I never complimented you – it would not look good for me, a Death Eater in disguise, to favor a muggleborn witch in front of a boy who reported every little thing the Golden Trio did during your years as students back to his father. I had an important role to play and did not want to compromise that to tell a girl how brilliant she was simply because everyone else was doing it. Also, as I have already pointed out, I never gave any students compliments. Don't take it personally."

By the end of his explanation, Hermione was bestowing him with that smile he still wasn't sure if he deserved. He gave her a surprised look, wondering what on earth he could have said that had made her so happy.

"You have no idea what you just said, do you?" Hermione laughed, seeing the confusion in his eyes. "You called me brilliant, Severus. Thank you – I didn't know you had it in you."

Severus rolled his eyes, but then gave her a rare, small smile in return. It was oddly pleasing to know that she was beginning to see that he was capable of changing. He never would have thought it, but the thought of changing into a slightly less surly person than he was know, didn't seem like a such a big deal as it might have been before. There was a bigger chance of them staying friends and in contact with each other after she left Hogwarts if he could prove to her that she was bringing out another side of him that he had long suppressed.

They said good night to each other when they reached Hermione's door. He gave his usual bow to her, but before he got the chance to turn on his heel, Hermione quickly stepped forward and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she pulled away quickly before he got a chance to push her away, but... It didn't seem as if he minded. There was no pushing and no sneer on his features, like she once would have expected to see after any kind of physical contact with the Potions Master. He simply looked surprised. And a little... confused. She gave him a quick smile.

"Good night, Severus."

That seemed to bring him to his senses, and he shook his head slightly to clear his mind.

"Good night, Hermione."

He watched her slip in through the door to her quarters and then stood rooted to the spot for another few moments before heading towards his own rooms. Sitting down in his favorite chair with a glass of Firewhiskey, he contemplated Hermione's behavior. He wasn't sure why he had started flirting with her in the first place – maybe he was just enjoying her reactions.

The first time he had noticed her slightly labored breathing, he had been observing her stirring a potion with not enough speed. He had grasped her hand and increased the speed of her movement as he softly told her what she had been doing wrong, only inches from her ear. She had stiffened for a moment and then she had dropped her mouth open, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. He had been surprised at the sound, and he had felt absolutely astounded as he wondered if she had gotten aroused.

The next day he had purposely gotten close enough to her to be able to whisper into her ear, to be able to see if her reaction had been a fluke, or if he actually possessed the ability to arouse Hermione Granger. It would seem as if he did – he had tested this hypothesis over ten times by now and every time her breathing had gotten labored, her eyelids had fluttered closed and twice she had even forgotten herself and leaned into him, molding her body along his. He couldn't understand it and he probably never could – she was a young, beautiful witch with her whole life ahead of her. What could she possibly see in a man like him?

As Severus sipped his firewhiskey, he came to the conclusion that she wasn't attracted to him – she was just craving male attention, and he was the only one giving it to her at the moment. Merlin only knew how long it had been since Ronald Weasley gave her any attention or appreciation. That... _boy_ had simply taken what he wanted, discarding her as if she was yesterday's news as soon as he was done with her, treating her as something not worth bothering about. With this in mind, Severus finished his drink in one swift gulp and went to bed, satisfied with the logic he had found in his reasoning in Hermione Granger's peculiar reactions.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

Hermione stared with fear at the letter the owl had just dropped on the table in front of her. The letter was blood-red and glowing, and she knew without a doubt that Ginny had finally managed to figure out how to send her a Howler. She glanced at Severus, who was watching the letter wearily, before she noticed how quiet the Great Hall had gotten. A lot of the students were watching her with curiosity – some had even stood up from their seats, trying to get a better view of the event that was about the enfold. Dinners at Hogwarts were quite mundane, these days, and Hermione Granger getting a Howler was bound to be interesting.

"Severus, is there anything you can do?" she asked him quietly, giving him a pleading look.

Before he got a chance to reply, the Howler started hissing. Hermione immediately shot from the chair to her feet, ready to run in case the message proved to be too much for her. Just as the Howler was about to explode and reveal its content, Severus whipped his wand out and muttered something Hermione didn't catch, but the Howler froze. She turned to towards him with a look of surprise.

"Grab the letter and run towards my office. I don't know how long it will stay frozen. Go!"

As she grabbed the letter, Hermione ground out "come with me", the request made solely to the Potions Master and he followed her down the corridor without a second thought. Their hasty retreat caused most of the student body to break out in whispers, but the pair weren't bothered by it since they were out of the Hall in a few seconds. They were almost at Severus's office when the Howler suddenly burst to life – Severus quickly sent up a shield behind him, effectively eliminating the possibility of someone overhearing the Howler.

"HERMIONE GRANGER, HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MIND? RON WAS JUST HERE AND HE TOLD ME THAT WENT TO SEE YOU AT HOGWARTS TO TRY TO GET YOU TO SEE REASON AND COME WITH HIM HOME!"

Hermione winced at Ginny's accusative tone, trying her best not to let it affect her. She knew that whatever Ron had told his sister, he had made himself out to be the victim.

"I CAN BARELY BELIEVE WHAT HE TOLD ME, HERMIONE! RON CLAIMS THAT YOU REFUSED TO SPEAK TO HIM, AND THAT SNAPE INTERRUPTED HIS ATTEMPT TO GET YOU BACK HOME WHERE YOU BELONG BY _STUNNING_ HIM? WHO THE HELL DOES THAT GREASY ASS THINK HE IS? WHAT RIGHT DID HE HAVE TO STUN MY BROTHER? AND TO MAKE IT WORSE, RON SAYS YOU LEFT HIM LIEING THERE! HOW CAN YOU HAVE STOOPED SO LOW? WHAT ARE YOU NOW, HERMIONE? SNAPE'S WHORE? THINK LONG AND HARD ON IF HE'S WORTH LOOSING EVERY ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS FOR! NEITHER ONE OF US WILL CONDONE YOU WHORING YOURSELF TO SEVERUS SNAPE!"

Ginny apparently thought she had made her point by now, because the Howler suddenly went quiet and started ripping itself to pieces. However, before the letter was entirely in pieces, the rest of it exploded. Hermione whirled around, knowing that only a spell could have caused a Howler to explode. Normally, Severus Snape always had his mask of indifference firmly placed over his features, but at this very moment, Hermione knew that she had never seen him look so angry. His wand was still pointed at the place where he had made the Howler explode and he was so angry that his hand was shaking. When he noticed that Hermione was watching him, he spared her a brief glance before he turned on his heel, waved his hand to make the shield disappear and then he quickly stalked away from her.

She hesitated for a moment before making up her mind about following him. She _had to _know what was going on in his head, she had to make sure that he wasn't angry with her. She had to run in order to catch up with him and they were halfway down the path to the gate of Hogwarts before she managed to grab a hold of his arm. He whirled around, catching Hermione by surprise. Before she fell backwards on her bum, Severus caught her arms and pulled her into him, his grip secure and tight around her wrists. Hermione didn't move, even though their noses were only inches apart. She let out a shaky breath, the intensity of his stare so strong that she was slightly afraid. Not that she thought he would harm her, in any way. She was scared of the implications of his stare.

"You might want to take a step back, Hermione," he whispered as he let go of her wrists. "We wouldn't want anyone to think that you are whoring yourself out to me."

"I don't care," Hermione said passionately, growling softly as he raised an eyebrow to show his skepticism. "I don't give a damn about what Ginny said, Severus. You and I know the truth."

She still hadn't moved away from him. On the contrary, she placed a hand on his chest, gently grabbing his shirt to keep him close.

"You must know me well enough to believe me when I say that I _don't care._"

They stood pressed against each other for quite some time, both winded from the rushed walk (or run, in Hermione's case) from the dungeons. Neither of them broke eye contact and Hermione could see the conflicting emotions behind Severus's black orbs.

"I am going to leave the grounds of Hogwarts for a few hours, Hermione," Severus finally said, glancing away from her. "I need... I need some distance."

Hermione wanted to cry. It felt as if he was leaving her, and the very thought almost sent her panicking.

"Please, Severus. Don't go."

Her whispered plead made him pause for a moment and he tilted his head slightly as he looked back into her eyes. There was a worried glint in her brown orbs and he felt compelled to tell her that everything would be alright.

"I'm just going to Hogsmeade, Hermione. There's no need to worry."

"But I will worry, Severus. Please, don't go. I just... I want..."

He couldn't stay here a moment longer. If he did, she might say something that he wasn't ready to hear. Something she would be saying in the heat of the moment, out of worry and fear.

"Hermione, I need you stay inside of the castle. Promise me that. If something happened to you when I'm not here..."

Hermione looked ready to cry, but she understood now that there was nothing she could do to make him stay.

"I promise, Severus," she said and he started turning away from her, but she grabbed his arm – he glanced at her over his shoulder, an unasked question in his eyes. "Just... be careful. And come back. You have to promise to come back – to me."

His eyes widened for a moment. She was a complete mystery to him. Why on earth did it seem like she _cared_ so much for him? What had he done to deserve it? He swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. And then, before it would become too difficult to leave her, he spun on his heel and hurried down the path. Hermione watched until she couldn't see him any longer and then she hurried inside. As she neared her rooms, she came to a decision and walked straight past the door, heading towards Severus's quarters instead.

"Aconite," she muttered to the closed door and she heard it click open, allowing her entrance.

She wandered around his living room for a moment and she realized that she really did not want to snoop around his rooms. She just wanted... What did she want, really? From the corner of her eyes, she saw his bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey and the answer came to her – she just wanted to have a glass to drink and to be here when he got back, so that she knew that she didn't have to worry about him anymore.

Four hours later, one glass of firewhiskey had become five and Hermione was currently sleeping soundly on the couch. This was how Severus found her at eleven o'clock when he returned from his visit to the Three Broomsticks, where he had indulged himself in a half a bottle of tequila – and not just any tequila, but a Milagro Añejo, a brand of tequila he had asked Madame Rosmerta to bring in solely for him, for moments when he seriously wanted a break from the hell that was his life.

Severus stared at the lithe form that was sleeping on his couch for a long time. He had never had a woman sleep in his quarters, and he really didn't know how to feel about it. As he got down on his knees on the floor next to her, he hesitated a few seconds before he woke her – she looked so peaceful and he really didn't want to disturb her. But... she couldn't just stay here all night.

"Hermione," he called softly, as he stroke a strand of her hair out of her face.

She stirred, but she didn't wake.

"Hermione," he called again, a little louder, as he shook her shoulders.

This time her eyes shot open and she looked around groggily. She was able to determine quite quickly that she was still drunk. It took a moment or two before her gaze settled on Severus's features.

"Hey," she whispered and gave him a tiny smile. "You came back."

"As promised," he answered, bestowing her with his rare smile. "Now will you tell me what you are doing here?"

She blinked in confusion and then she seemed to remember where she was. She sat up abruptly and shot him an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry. I just... didn't know when you'd come back. And I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't know that you'd come back, so I thought I'd just come here and wait..."

She trailed off, wondering if he was angry with her. He didn't look mad... But with Severus Snape, one could never be quite sure.

"How did you get in?"

"I heard you say the password, the night Ron... You know," she answered, suddenly lost in thought as the memory of that night hit her like a punch in the stomach.

She furiously blinked away the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes and then she felt a warm hand encircle her wrist. She snapped her eyes up to the Potions Master's, who looked as if he didn't quite know what to say. Again, they stared at each other for a long time and Hermione knew that she would not break the gaze willingly. Finally, Severus forced his eyes to the clock on the wall and he let out a small sigh.

"I think it is time for you to retire to your quarters, Hermione," he said slowly as he started to rise from the floor.

"Please don't send me away!" Hermione pleaded, shooting from the couch herself, which proved to be a very bad idea.

The alcohol she had earlier consumed was still heavily in her bloodstream – her balance was off, a fact she noticed the moment she stood up. She crashed into Severus, who was caught by surprise and not exactly sober himself and promptly fell backwards, his back landing safely on the couch, while Hermione ended up on top of him. _Oh, this is very bad_, Severus thought as he caught the look in her eyes. He struggled to sit up as Hermione struggled to stay on top of him. Finally, Severus was sitting in an upright position, while Hermione straddled him, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. Severus purposely let his arms rest of the couch. It was not a good idea for him to be touching her at the moment.

"I don't want you to send me away, Severus" Hermione whispered breathlessly and her lips parted as her eyes flickered down to his lips.

Severus's heart nearly stopped when he saw it and now he couldn't stop staring at her lips. She was clearly hoping and waiting for him to kiss her, but _why_ in Merlin's name would she even want him to? Had she forgotten who he was? That she had spent most of her years at this school absolutely loathing him?

"What _do_ you want then, Hermione?" he wondered softly as his eyes met hers again.

The look in her brown orbs was wild and scorching, as if she was trying to suppress passion. He didn't know what he had expected to hear her say, but the next thing that came out her mouth he never even would have taken into consideration.

"You. I want you."

_AN: Please review! I love to hear any comments you have and it always helps my motivation to write, know that my readers enjoy what I've put so much work into. =) I really hope you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter._


	15. Return of the Spy

Chapter Fourteen

Return of the Spy

Severus instantly froze at her words, his eyes wide and questioning. He could see nothing but open sincerity mixed with intense passion in those brown orbs of hers, but the way her eyes constantly moved, as if trying to catch an emotion or a thought in his features, made him slightly nervous. No one had ever managed to crawl under his skin, but now it seemed as if Hermione Granger would barely have to put up a fight to attempt this herself. Merlin's beard, who was he trying to fool? She had already succeeded.

"Miss Granger, I..."

"I will not allow you to distance yourself from me, Severus, and by using my surname, I can tell that you are doing precisely that!" Hermione interrupted harshly, her tone indicating how determined she was.

She flew up on her feet, and she started pacing back and forth at a furious pace, while shooting him intimidating looks, almost sneering at him. Severus almost snorted as he noticed this. Who did she think she was, sneering at _him_ of all people! Had she forgotten who the hell he was?

"I know what you're going to say; you're going to question my sanity, since obviously there can't be any logical reason behind the feelings I have for you!" Hermione continued,finally coming to a halt, stopping right in front of him as she placed her hands on her hips. "You're going to come up with all these reasons for why we can't be together – the age difference, the teacher-student relationship, the fact that you used to be a Death Eater..."

His mind had already been in turmoil since she had confessed to wanting him, but now it felt like his head was drowning with all the information and accusations she was hurling at him. Merlin's beard, would she ever stop to take a breath?

"... you'll be afraid that I'll lose my friends over this and my respect in the wizarding world, and I can you tell you right now that you can shove those reasons up your..."

He suddenly felt that he had heard enough and thus he promptly pulled her back onto his lap, knowing this would startle her into silence.

"Hermione, do shut up for a moment, will you?" Severus said calmly as he placed a hand gently over her mouth, almost smiling as her eyes widened slightly. "Give a man a chance to process such a proclamation before throwing those accusations around."

He felt her mouth close under his palm and he retreated his hand. She was quiet now, watching him intently. He took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts, savoring the quiet for a moment.

"Using your surname, Hermione, was nothing more than a reaction to the shock I felt at your confession – I simply forgot, and I hope you will forgive my mistake."

She gave him a tiny smile before she nodded, showing him that the slight was forgiven and forgotten. He gave a satisfactory nod before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I _will_ question your sanity, Hermione, and I probably always will, because when it comes down to it, I will never understand how such a beautiful, intelligent young witch could fall for the likes of me."

"But, Severus..."

His hand closed over her mouth again and he gently shook his head, his eyes flashing in warning.

"Do not interrupt me."

She just nodded and then she bowed her head, finally breaking eye contact. He took his hand away and placed his index finger under her chin, forcing it up and once again their gazes locked. Gently, he traced his finger along her jawline and when she shivered, he dropped his hand down to his side, knowing there was a lot more to say before he would dare to touch her again.

"I have never been a... _ladies man_..." – Hermione almost let out an undignified snort as that uncharacteristic term came out of his mouth – "...as I have been too busy over the past twenty years to get myself involved with the mysteries that constitutes a relationship. I know very little of being that close to anyone and for as long as I can remember, I have never found myself being interested in learning more about it – I have never bothered even trying."

Hermione's eyes flickered down in defeat, realizing were this must be going. He had no interest in her.

"On a different matter, you are right to point out that there are many reasons for why we should not be together – those you mentioned are a few of them. You know me better than anyone now, Hermione, but even before that you have always known that I am not a _nice_ man."

Hermione's gaze snapped up to him and she opened her mouth to protest, but when his eyes narrowed she quickly closed it again. He waited a moment longer to make sure she wouldn't try to interrupt him and when he noticed that she was simply waiting for him to continue, he did.

"I will make all reasons known for why we shouldn't be together, just so that you are aware of them. I will, however, not try to make you see reason, nor will I attempt to dissuade your from your feelings."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise at that and he almost smiled at her openly shocked expression. A second ago she thought he was rejecting her. Before that, she had been sure that she would have to work hard over the next few _months_ before she could get him to submit to her wishes; if ever.

"But why?" she felt the need to ask, her eyes boring into his own.

He gave her a true smile, giving in to the urge to touch her as his hand found hers. Hermione watched in awe as their fingers laced together, thoroughly enjoying the warmth of his hand.

"Because no matter how insane I believe you to be, I would be a fool to try to talk sense into you for two reasons; one, you are a Hermione Granger – nothing I say will make you change your mind. If nothing else, I know that you would never dive into something so... incredulous such as this without thinking it through. You may be a Gryffindor, but usually it has been Mr Potter that has caused you to rush into things impulsively."

He rolled his eyes when he saw her grin and then he plowed on.

"Secondly, it is really not in _my_ best interest if I somehow got you to change your mind. As a matter of fact, I feel certain that I would kick myself for the rest of my life if I made you come to your senses."

Her grin disappeared instantly as she understood the meaning behind his words. Her lower lip trembled and he fought the urge to stroke his finger along it, to kiss it gently.

"Does that mean...?" she wondered, but then she trailed off uncertainly, her eyes wide with hope.

Her heart was racing, she felt as if she was on fire. She hardly dared to believe what his words meant, but surely there could only be _one_ meaning behind them?

"Does that mean what, Hermione?" he whispered softly and he could see her eyes flash in annoyance at his teasing – if he didn't get to the point, and get to it soon, he would earn himself a smack over the head, he was sure of that.

"Severus..."

The warning in her voice was clear. He quickly sobered up and then he flashed her another one of his rare smiles, which in turn instantly softened her features.

"Tell me what it means, Severus," Hermione whispered, her free hand coming up to rest behind his neck – she saw him shiver at her touch, his eyes closing momentarily.

"My feelings for you have... changed. Progressed into something else. Something more profound... For some reason, I find you slightly less annoying these days."

Hermione laughed softly, pinching him slightly at the base of his neck for his cheek.

"Ow," Severus grumbled, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. "No need to manhandle me, my dear. I am simply stating the truth."

"I hope you're only stating parts of the whole truth, Severus," Hermione quipped as she gave him a pointed look. "Stop beating around the bush and tell me straight out how you feel."

Severus raised a single eyebrow and smirked lightly.

"You're correct, it was not the whole truth. Not only are you slightly less annoying these days, I also find your company... quite pleasant," he murmured and a second later his eyes narrowed in mock horror. "Merlin's beard, has the world gone mad? A pleasant Gryffindor? What a preposterous... ouch!"

Hermione pinched the base of neck harder this time and glared at him. Severus actually had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Severus, if you don't kiss me within the next ten seconds, I will hex you."

Severus tilted his head, his expression suddenly turning quite serious.

"Witch, have you forgotten the reason for why you are currently a resident of this school?" he questioned, somehow managing to make it sound endearing rather than insulting.

Hermione smirked and leaned forward until she was a mere inch from his mouth.

"I haven't forgotten," she whispered as she kept her eyes firmly locked with his. "So, unless you'd like me to throw a stinging hex at you, knowing I might cause whatever I point my wand at to... oh, I don't, blow up or something, I suggest you do as you're told."

Severus's eyes widened, unsure of just how serious she was about executing her threat. A second later he wondered if this could be considered flirting; it wasn't as if he had much experience with it. They stared intently into each others eyes for another moment or so, and then Severus could feel her fingers at the base of his neck moving gently over his skin. His gaze shifted to her mouth, longing to feel the softness of her lips on his own, and yet he still hesitated. Did he possess the strength and the courage to take this giant leap of faith with such uncertainty, with her?

While he was still over thinking the situation, Hermione suddenly made up his mind for him.

She closed the distance between them and gently pressed her lips against his. Neither one of them got a chance to enjoy it; the second their first kiss started was the same second they had to end it. The fireplace suddenly roared to life and Hermione flew off Severus's lap in surprise. A second later, Minerva's head appeared in the green flame.

"Severus, please come to me office, we have an emergency," was the Headmistress' frantic message and the next moment she was gone.

Severus stared at the flames for a little while, contemplating why both Minerva and Albus always seemed to have such impeccable timing. He let out a frustrated sigh as he tried to remember the feel of her mouth on his, but it had been too fleeting. He turned to look at her; she looked flushed with excitement, while her eyes already were wide with worry from Minerva's message. She met his gaze and they shared a look, knowing now that they would have a secret that no one else would be privy to. He gently caressed her cheek, loving the way she closed her eyes at the touch, and then he stood from the couch and stepped into the fire to see what in Merlin's name was such an emergency at this hour.

He really shouldn't have been surprised.

He should have known that the moment the golden trio stepped back into his life, no matter the circumstances, that his life would be filled once again with complications. Hermione Granger had been at Hogwarts for little more than a month, while the Dark Lord had been gone for more than two years; was it just an annoying coincidence that the last three remaining Death Eaters had managed to break out of Azkaban and in the two days since their departure they had already caused more trouble than they had in the last years of Voldemort's reign?

For some reason, he thought perhaps Hermione would have retired to her own chambers after he had left, but he really should have know better; he had, after all, seen the worried glint of worry in her eyes. He should have known that she would want to hear what was going on. It appeared as if she hadn't moved a muscle since he had left, since she was sitting in the exact same position. She hadn't even slouched her shoulders.

She looked up automatically when he stepped into the room and she knew immediately that something was wrong. The moment their gazes connected, Hermione knew that the Severus Snape she had come to know over the past few weeks had been buried somewhere deep within him. She stood and they merely looked at each other for a moment.

"Three Death Eaters have escaped Azkaban."

His unusually crisp tone made Hermione flinch, and a second later she realized what he had said and her jaw dropped in shock. Hundreds of questions were milling through her brain; there wasn't even time to process one percent of them.

"Which means that I must leave, temporarily," he continued regretfully.

She wanted to scream that he didn't have to leave, that she didn't want him to leave _her –_ but she couldn't be that selfish. She knew, somewhere deep inside that he was only one who could get close enough to the last of Voldemort's lackeys in order to learn anything important in order to bring them down. Blinking furiously in order to keep the tears from spilling, she sat back down, her eyes downcast. She saw in the corner of her eyes that Severus moved closer to her. He got down on one knee in front of her.

"I need you to be strong, Hermione," he said gently. "I hate being forced to leave you, but in these days of peace, this is of course the only situation that I ever could have been forced into investigate personally."

"I know that, Severus," the witch whispered as she looked up at him, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "You don't have to justify it. Just... come back."

Her hand instinctively reached out towards him and she caressed his cheek with a featherlight touch. He hadn't even left yet and she missed him already. His own hand closed around her wrist, pulling hers away from his cheek and then he pressed a gentle kiss to her palm.

"I will," Severus whispered as he let go of her hand.

They kept their gazes locked for another moment, and then Severus abruptly got to his feet. He took her hand and gently pulled her up. He led her to his desk and he motioned for her to sit down in his chair. She looked confused but did as he requested.

"Since you supposedly are here as my apprentice, we need to keep up with appearances while I'm gone; hence, you need to supervise my classes and hand out and grade assignments."

He paused when he noticed Hermione's terrified look. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

"You can do this, Hermione. I have complete faith in you, as does Minerva."

He felt her shoulder drop under his hand, as if she had relaxed her stiff posture a bit. He took his hand off her and tapped a folder on the desk.

"You are lucky that I am a compulsive perfectionist with an obsession for planning out every detail of every assignment and paper I want my students to hand in," he continued with a small smile, causing Hermione to smile back in return. "This is the plan for the NEWT class. The others are in the top drawer. You should have no problem with this task."

Hermione's heart swelled when she heard his faith for her in his voice.

"While I'm gone, I want you to mediate every night; however, please do not attempt to reach your magical core without me. It might be dangerous if you do it alone."

She hadn't even considered locating her core again, since the first time had crushed her so. She shuddered slightly at the memory; no, she would not attempt it ever again, unless he requested it.

"First thing tomorrow morning, floo Potter and tell him of the events, but do your best to get it into his thick skull that it is pointless for him to leave the Academy and go our looking for them on his own. It is very likely that I shall need his help before the end, but I cannot have him risking his life needlessly."

Hermione just nodded her consent, knowing very well how impulsive Harry could be sometimes.

"Which Death Eater's are we talking about here?" she finally asked when he hadn't said anything in a little while.

"Avery, Dolohov and Macnair," Severus answered tonelessly. "Avery is an incompetent fool, the least of our worries. Macnair is dangerous simply for his blood thirst; he will stop at nothing to bleed any muggle or non pure-blood witch or wizard. The one to be weary and frightened of is Dolohov; as you may remember, he was one of the Dark Lord's first followers and was part of the inner circle."

Hermione felt a chill go through her. Yes, she could picture Antonin Dolohov quite clearly. Not only had he been the one to kill Remus Lupin, but he had also been one of the two wizards that had tried (and failed) to capture the trio at the muggle café after Bill and Fleur's wedding.

"I suppose I don't need to remind you to be careful?" she asked carefully as she stood from the chair, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart.

Severus simply looked at for a moment and then his large, warm hand clasped over hers. It still surprised her that his skin was so soft.

"No, you need not remind me. The same applies to you, Hermione. Do not do anything reckless."

Hermione wanted to lean forward and kiss him goodbye, but something in his demeanor held her back. He was already mentally preparing for the task ahead and she thought it best not to disturb him.

"I refuse to say goodbye, Severus," Hermione stated simply. "I will only order you to come back."

"Very well," Severus said in reply, his hold on her hand tightening for a moment. "Then all I will do is order you to stay safe."

They stared into the depths of each others eyes for a moment longer and then Severus reluctantly let her hand go, taking a step back at the same time. Hermione took this as her cue to leave. She didn't say anything as she made her way towards the door, but she did glance over her shoulder before she walked left the room. He looked at her, and she couldn't decide whether or not to be relieved that he could slip into his old role so quickly.

The indestructible mask of the Master Spy was back.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

AN: I know is this was short, and I am really sorry; I also apologize for the insanely long delay. I've struggled with Coming Home, merely due to the fact that I really want to finish one of my other stories, Love Triangle, a story which I've struggled with from the start since I've gotten so much... crap, to put it eloquently. I am dying to get it over and done with, a feat which will be achieved soon since that story was never meant to be real long.

Unlike this story, which has always been meant to be long. So, this short chapter is a reminder to you all that I have not given up on this story, and to give you my promise that I will not give up on it. Once Love Triangle is finished, which I really do believe will be soon, I can give this story my undivided attention. Until then, I hope you can forgive my negligence and be patient a little longer.


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